The Witch of Wethersfield Pond
by stargazer84
Summary: 16 year old- orphaned Sora finds a new life in a Connecticut Colony, where she has to learn the new ways of life. But is soon found guilty of...
1. chapter 1

I'm back! My writer's block has been cured for the time being. I need more authors for my contest. To find out more about it look for the story Authors Wanted to see the rules. I've got the first chapter done, Thanks to Dragonfire! Anyways, on with the story.

Disclaimer: Don't own anything!

                                                The Witch Of Wethersfield Pond

By: Sora Rau ^_^

On a morning in mid-April 1687, the ship _The Brave Little Warrior_ left the open sea, sailed briskly across the Sound to the wide mouth of the Connecticut River and into Saybrook harbor. Sora Takenouchi had been on the forecastle deck since daybreak, standing close to the rail, staring hungrily at the first sight of land for five weeks.

            "There's Connecticut Colony," a voice spoke in her ear. "You've come a long way to see it."

She looked up, surprised and flattered. On the whole long the captain's son had spoken scarcely a dozen words to her. She had noticed him often, his thin wiry figure swinging easily hand over hand up the rigging, his dark chocolate colored head bent over a coil of rope. Taichi Kamiya, first mate, but his mother called him Tai. Now, seeing him so close to her, she was surprised that, for all he looked so slight, the top of her head barley reached his shoulder.

            "How does it look to you?" he asked.

Sora hesitated. She didn't want to admit how disappointed she found this first glimpse of America. The bleak line of shore surrounding the gray harbor was a disheartening contrast to the shimmering green and white that fringed the turquoise bay of Barbados which was her home. The earthen wall of the fortification that faced the river was bare and ugly, and the houses beyond were no more plain wooden boxes.

            "Is that Wethersfield?" she inquired instead.

            "Oh, no, Wethersfield is some way up the river. This is Saybrook. Home to us Kamiyas. There's my father's shipyard, just beyond the dock."

She could just make out the row of unimpressive shacks and the flash of raw new lumber. Her smile was admiring from pure relief. At least this grim place was not her destination, and surely the colony at Wethersfield would prove more inviting.

            "We've made good time this year," Tai went on. "It's been a fair passage, hasn't it?"

            "Oh, yes," she sparkled. "Though I'm glad now 'tis over."

            "Aye." He agreed. "I never know myself which is best, the setting out or the coming back to harbor. Ever been on a ship before?"

            "Just the little pinnaces in the islands. I've sailed on those all my life."

He nodded. "That's where you learned to keep your balance."

So he had noticed! To her pride, she had proved to be a natural sailor. Certainly she had not spent the voyage groaning and retching like some of the passengers.

            "You're not afraid of the wind and the salt, anyway. At least, you haven't spent much time below."

            "Not if I could help it," she laughed. Did he think anyone would stay in that stuffy cabin by choice? Would she ever have had the courage to sail at all had she known, before she booked the passage, that the sugar and molasses in the hold had been paid for by a load of Connecticut horses, and that all the winds of the Atlantic could never blow the ship clean of that unbearable stench? "That's what I minded most about the storm," she added, "four days shut away down there with the deadlights up."

            "We're you scared?"

            "Scared to death. Especially when the ship stood right on end and the water leaked under the cabin door. But now I wouldn't have missed it for anything. 'Twas the most exciting thing I ever knew."

His face lightened with admiration, but all for the ship. "He's a stout one, _The Brave Little Warrior_," he said. " He's come through many a worse blow than that." His eyes dwelt fondly on the topsails.

            What is happening?" Sora asked, noting the sudden activity along the deck. Four husky sailors in blue jackets and bright kerchiefs had hurried forward to man the capstan bars. Captain Kamiya, in his good blue coat, was shouting orders from the quarterdeck. "Are we stopping here?"

            "There are passengers to go ashore," Tai explained. "And we need food and water for the trip upriver. But we've missed the tide, and the wind is blowing too hard from the west for us to make the landing. We're going to anchor out here and take the longboat in to shore. That means I'd better look to the oars." He swung away, moving lightly and confidently; there was a bounce in his step that matched the laughter in his eyes. 

With dismay, Sora saw the captain's wife among the passengers preparing to disembark. Must she say goodbye so soon to Mistress Kamiya? They had shared the bond of being the only two women aboard _The Brave Little Warrior _and the older woman had been sociable and kindly. Now, catching Sora's eye, she came hurrying along the deck.

            "Are you leaving the ship, Mistress Kamiya?" Sora greeted her wistfully.

            "Aye, didn't I tell you I'd be leaving you at Saybrook? But don't look so sad, child. 'Tis not far to Wethersfield, and we'll be meeting again."

            "But I thought _The Brave Little Warrior _was your home!"

            "In the wintertime it is, when we sail to the West Indies. But I was born in Saybrook, and in the spring I get to hankering for my house and garden. Besides, I'd never let on to my husband, but the summer trips are tedious, just back and forth up and down the river. I stay at home and tend my vegetables and my spinning like a proper housewife. Then, come November, when he sails for Barbados again, I'm ready enough to go with him. 'Tis a good life, and one of the best things about it is coming home in the spring time."

Sora glanced again at the forbidding shore. She could see nothing about it to put such a twinkle of anticipation in anyone's eye. Could there be some charm that was not visible from out here in the harbor? She spoke on a sudden impulse.

            "Would there be room in the boat for me to ride to shore with you?" she begged. "I know it's silly, but there is America so close to me for the first time in my life- I can't bear not to set foot upon it!"

            "What a child you are, Sora," smiled Mrs. Kamiya. "Sometimes 'tis hard to believe that you are sixteen." She appealed to her husband. The captain scowled at the girl's wind-reddened cheeks and shining eyes, and then shrugged consent. As Sora gathered her heavy skirts around her and clambered down the swaying rope ladder, the men in the longboat good-naturedly shoved their bundles closer to make room for her. Her spirits bobbed like the whitecaps in the harbor as the boat pulled away from the black hull of the ship.

As the prow scraped the landing piles, Tai leaped ashore and caught the hawser. He reached to help his mother, then stretched a sure hand to swing Sora over the boat's edge.

With a bound she was over the side and had set foot on America. She stood taking deep breaths of the salt, fish-tainted air, and looked about for someone to share her excitement. She was quite forgotten. A throng of men and boys on the wharf had noisily closed in on the three Kamiya's, and she could hear a busy catching up of the past months' news. The other passengers had hurried along the wharf to the dirt road beyond. Only three shabbily dressed women lingered near her, and because she could not contain her eagerness, Sora smiled and would have spoken, but their sharply curious eyes abruptly repulsed her. One hand moved guiltily to her tangled brown curls. She must look a sight! No gloves, no cover for her hair, and her face rough and red from weeks of salt wind. But how ill mannered of them to stare so! She pulled up the hood of her scarlet cloak and turned away. Embarrassment was a new sensation for Sora. No one on the island had ever presumed to stare like that at Sir Francis Takenouchi's granddaughter. 

To make matters worse, America was behaving strangely underfoot. As she stepped forward, the wharf tilted upward, and she felt curiously lightheaded. Just in time a hand grasped her elbow.

            "Steady there!" a voice warned. "You haven't got your land legs yet." Tai's brown eyes laughed down at her.

            "It will wear off in a short time," his mother assured her. "Sora, dear, I do hate to let you go on alone. You're sure your aunt will be waiting for you at Wethersfield? They say there's a Goodwife Cruff going aboard, and I'll tell her to keep an eye on you." With a quick clasp of Sora's hand she was gone and Tai, shouldering her trunk in one easy motion, followed her along the narrow dirt road. Which one of those queer little boxlike houses did they call home? Sora wondered.

She turned to watch the sailors stowing provisions into the longboat. She already regretted this impulsive trip ashore. There was no welcome for her at this chill Saybrook landing. She was grateful when at last the captain assembled the return group and she could climb back into the longboat. Four new passengers were embarking for the trip up the river, a shabby, dour-looking man and wife and their scrawny little girl clutching a wooden toy, and a tall, angular young man with a pale narrow face and shoulder-length fair hair under a wide-brimmed black hat. Captain Kamiya took his place aft without attempting any introduction. The men readied their oars. Then Taichi, coming back down the road on a run, slipped the rope from the mooring and as they pulled away from the wharf leaped nimbly to his place with the crew.

They were halfway across the harbor when a wail of anguish broke from the child. Before anyone could stop her, the little girl had flung herself to her knees and teetered dangerously over the edge of the boat. Her mother leaned forward, grasped the woolen jumper and jerked her back, smacking her down with a sharp cuff. 

            "Ma! The dolly's gone!" the child wailed. "The dolly Grandpa made for me!"

Sora could see the little wooden doll; it's arms sticking stiffly into the air, bobbing helplessly in the water a few feet away.

            "Shame on you!" the woman scolded. "After the work he went to. All that fuss for a toy, and then the minute you get one you throw it away!"

            "I was holding her up to see the ship! Please get her back, Ma! Please! I'll never drop it again!"

The toy drifted farther and farther from the boat, like a useless twig in the current. No one in the boat made a move, or paid attention. Sora could not keep silent.

            "Turn back, Captain," she ordered impulsively. "'Twill be an easy thing to catch."

The captain did not even glance in her direction. Sora was not used to being ignored, and her temper flared. When a thin whimper from the child was silenced by a vicious smack, her anger boiled over. Without a second's deliberation she acted. Kicking off her buckled shoes and dropping the woolen cloak, she plunged headlong over the side of the boat.

The shock of the cold, totally unexpected, almost knocked her senseless. As her head came to the surface she could not catch her breath at all. But after a dazed second she sighted the bobbing piece of wood and instinctively struck out after it in vigorous strokes that set her blood moving again. She had the doll in her hand before her numbed mind realized that there had been a second splash and as she turned back she saw that Tai was in the water besides her, thrashing with a clumsy paddling motion. She could not help laughing as she passed him, and with a feeling of triumph she beat him to the boat. The captain to drag her back over the side, and Tai scrambled in behind her without any assistance.

            "Such water!" she gasped. "I never dreamed water could be so cold!"

She shook back her wet hair, her cheeks glowing. But her laughter died away at the sight of all their faces. Shock and horror and unmistakable anger stared back at her. Even Tai's face was dark with rage.

            "You must be daft," the woman hissed. "To jump into the river and ruin those clothes!"

Sora tossed her head. "Bother the clothes! They'll dry. Besides, I have plenty of others."

            "Then you might have a thought for somebody else!" snapped Tai, Slapping the water out of his dripping breeches. "These are the only clothes I have."

Sora's eyes flashed. "Why did you jump in anyway? You needn't have bothered." 

            "You can be sure I wouldn't have," he retorted, "had I any idea you could swim."

Her eyes widened. "Swim?" she echoed scornfully. "Why my Grandfather taught me how to swim as soon as I could walk."

The others stared at her in suspicion. As though she sprouted a tail and fins right before their eyes. What was the matter with these people? Not another word was uttered as the men pulled harder on their oars. A solid cloud of disapproval settled over the dripping girl, more chilling than the April breeze. Her high spirits plunged. She had made herself ridiculous. How many times had her grandfather cautioned her to think before she flew off the handle? She drew her knees and elbows tight under the red cloak and clenched her teeth to keep them from chattering. Water dripped off her matted hair and ran in icy trickles down her neck. Then, glancing defiantly from one hostile face to another, Sora found a small measure of comfort. The young man in the black hat was looking at her gravely, and all at once his lips twisted in spite of himself. A smile filled his eyes with such warmth and sympathy that a lump rose in Sora's throat, and she glanced away. Then she saw that the child, silently clutching her sodden doll, was staring at her with a gaze of pure worship.

Two hours later, dressed in a fresh green silk, Sora was spreading the wet dress and the woolen cloak to dry on the sun-warmed planking of the deck when her glance was caught by the wide black hat, and she looked up to see the new passenger coming toward her.

            "If you will give me leave," he said, with stiff courtesy, removing the hat to reveal a high fine forehead, "I would like to introduce myself. I am Joe Kido, bound for Wethersfield, which I learn is your destination as well."

Sora had not forgotten that comforting smile. "I am Sora Takenouchi," she answered forthrightly. "I am on the way to Wethersfield to live with my aunt, Mistress Wood." 

            "Is Matthew Wood your uncle then? His name is well known along the river."

            "Yes, but I have never seen him, nor my aunt either. I do not know very much about her, just that she was my mother's sister back in England, and that she was very beautiful."

The young man looked puzzled. "I have never met your aunt," he said politely. "I came to look for you now because I felt I should ask your pardon for the way we all behaved toward you this morning. After all, it was only a kind thing you meant to do, to get the toy back for the child."

            "'Twas a very foolish thing, I realize now," she admitted. "I am forever doing foolish things. Even so, I can't understand why it should make everyone so angry."

He considered this gravely. "You took us aback, that is all. We were all sure you would drown before our eyes. It was astonishing to see you swimming."

            "But can't you swim?"

He flushed. "I cannot swim a stroke, nor could anyone else on this ship, I warrant, except Tai who was born on the water. Where in England could they have taught you a thing like that?"

            "Not England. I was born in Barbados."

            "Barbados!" he stared. " The heathen island in the West Indies?"

            "'Tis no heathen island. 'Tis as civilized as England, with a famous town and fine streets and shops. My grandfather was one of the first plantation owners, with a grant from the King."

            "You are not a Puritan then?"

            "Puritan? You mean a Roundhead? One of those traitors to King Charles?"

A spark of protest flashed across his mild gray eyes. He started to speak, then thought better of it, and asked gently, "You are going to stay here in Connecticut?"

Under his serious gaze Sora was suddenly uneasy. She had had enough questioning. "Do you live in Wethersfield yourself?" she turned the tables. The young man shook his head.

            "My home is in Saybrook, but I am going to Wethersfield to study under the Reverend Bulkeley. In another year I hope to take a church of my own."

A clergyman! She might have guessed? His very smile had a touch of solemnness. But even as she was surprised by the humor that his fine straight lips.

            "I mistrust you will be a surprise to the good people of Wethersfield," he said mildly. "What will they make of you, I wonder?"

Sora started. Had he guessed? There was no one who could possibly have told him. She had kept her secret even from the captain's wife. Before she could ask what he meant, she was diverted by the sight of Tai Kamiya swinging along the deck in their direction. His thin clothing had dried on him, but the friendly grin of that morning had been replaced by an aloof and mocking smile that showed only too well that this morning's ducking had not been forgotten.

            "My father sent me to find you, Mistress Takenouchi." One couldn't have guessed, by his tone, that he had ever addressed her before. "Since my mother has left the ship he thinks it best that you eat at board with Goodwife Cruff and her family."

Sora wrinkled up her nose. "Ugh," she exclaimed, "that sour face of hers will curdle my food."

Tai laughed shortly. "'Tis certain she expects you will curdle hers," he answered. "She has been insisting to my father that you are a witch. She says no respectable woman could keep afloat in water like that."

            "How dare she!" Sora flared, indignant as much at his tone as at the dread word he uttered so carelessly. 

            "Don't you know about the water trial?" Tai's eye's deliberately taunted her. "'Tis a sure test. I've seen it myself. A true witch will stay afloat. The innocent ones just sink like a stone."

He was obviously paying her back for the mornings humiliation. But she was surprised to see that Joe Kido was not at all amused. His solemn young face was even more grave than before. 

            "That is not a thing to be laughed at," he said. "Is the woman serious, Tai?"

Tai shrugged. "She'd worked up quite a gale," he admitted. "But father has smoothed her down. He knows Barbados. He explained that the sea is always warm and that even respectful people sometimes swim in it. All the same, Mistress Sora," he added, with a quizzical look, "now that you're in Connecticut I'd advise you to forget that you ever learned."

"No danger," Sora shuddered. "I wouldn't go near your freezing river again for the world."

She made both laugh, but underneath her nonchalance, Sora felt uneasy. In spite of his mocking tone, Tai unmistakably warned her, just as she knew that Joe Kido had been about to warn her. There was something that they all seemed to share and understand and she did not. She was only partially reassured when Joe said, with another of those surprising flashes of humor; "I shall sit with you at supper, if I may. Just to make sure that no one's food gets curdled." 


	2. chapter 2

Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING!!

                                                            **Chapter 2**

****

It took nine days for _The Brave Little Warrior _to make the forty-three mile voyage from Saybrook to Wethersfield. As though the ship were bewitched, from the moment they left Saybrook everything went wrong. With the narrowing of the river the fresh sea breeze dropped behind, and by sunset it died away all together. The sails sagged limp and soundless, and _The Brace Little Warrior_ rolled sickening in midstream. On one or two evenings a temporary breeze raised their hopes and sent the ship ahead a few miles, only to die away again. In the morning Sora could scarcely tell that they had moved. The dense brown forest on either side never seemed to vary, and ahead there was only a new bend in the river to tantalize her.

            "How con you stand it?" she fumed to a redheaded sailor who was taking advantage of the windless hours to give the carved dragon like figure at the prow a fresh coat of paint. "Doesn't the wind ever blow on this river?"

            "Mighty seldom, ma'am," he responded with indifferent good humor. "You get used to it. We'll spend most of the summer waiting for a breeze, going or coming."

            "How often do you go up this river?"

            "Every few weeks. We make a run, say to Boston or New Orleans, fill up the hold, and then back to Hartford."

She could see why Mistress Kamiya chose to stay at home in Saybrook. "Does it always take as long as this?"

            "Call this long?" the sailor replied, swinging far out to daub the curving tail of the dragon. "Why, ma'am, I've known it to take as many days to get from here to Hartford as to go all the way to Jamaica. But I'm in no hurry. This ship's home to me, and I'm satisfied, wind or no wind."

Sora was ready to fly to pieces with frustration. How could she eke out the patience that had been scarcely enough to see her through a few remaining hours? And how could she force herself to endure another meal at the same board with Goodwife Cruff and her cowed shadow of a husband? Never a civil word had been spoken by either of them. Plainly they considered the becalmed ship all her doing. And it spoiled her appetite just to watch that miserable little wraith of a child Prudence, not even allowed to sit at board with them, but kept behind her mother where she had to eat standing up the stingy portion they handed back to her. Once or twice she had seen the father furtively slip the child an extra morsel from his plate, but he was plainly too spineless to stand up for her against his shrew of a wife.

A more unpromising child she had never seen, Sora thought, yet she couldn't get Prudence out of her mind. There was some spark in that small frame that refused to be quenched. Late one afternoon Sora had come upon the little girl standing alone by the rail, and seeing the child's wistful, adoring gaze, had moved closer. As they stood side by side a crane rose slowly from the beach, with a graceful lift of its great wings, and they followed its flight, a leisurely line of white against the dark the dark trees. The child had gasped, tilting her head back, her peaked little face aglow with wonder and delight. But in that instant a harsh call from the hatchway sent her scurrying. With a pang Sora realized that not once since they boarded the ship had she glimpsed the wooden doll. Had her own rash performance only served to cheat the chills of the one toy she possessed?

They were certainly not good at forgetting, these New Englanders. Captain Kamiya treated her with punctilious caution. Tai remained aloof, absorbed in a total male world of rigging and canvas. (A/N: "In the navy, you can join your fellow men, in the navy…" never mind… I don't mean it that way… this is a Sorato/Taiora.) On such a small ship it was remarkable how he managed to avoid her. The few times she happened to be directly in his path he tossed her an indifferent grin and his quizzical brown eyes flicked past and dismissed her.

She looked with envy at where he sat, propped against the bulkhead, lost in a bulky brown volume. What could there be in these books of his? There he sat, hour after hour, so intent that often his lips moved, and two spots of color burned in his pale cheeks, as though some secret excitement sprang form the pages. Sometimes he forgot meals entirely. Only when he had wrung the last dregs of light from the sunset, and the shadows reached across the water and fell upon his head and become aware of the ship again. 

When that moment came, Sora made sure that his eyes, blinking half blindly from his book, would focus on her gay, (A/N: happy type of gay, not gay, gay) silk-glad figure nearby. Joe would smile, mark his place with deliberation, and come to join her. In the soft half-darkness his stiff manners gradually relaxed into a boyish eagerness. Slowly Sora pieced together the details of what seemed to her an appallingly dull history.

            "I suppose it was foolish for a tanner's son even to think about Harvard," Joe told her. "It was six miles to the school, and my father never could spare me more than a month or so out of the year. He wanted me to learn, though. He never minded how long I burned my candles at night."

            "You mean you worked all day and studied at night? Was it worth it?"

            "Of course it was worth it." He answered, surprised at her question. "I was set on college. I finished all requirements in Latin. I know the _Accidence _almost by heart."

            "But you're not going to Harvard?"

He shook his head. "Up till this spring I kept hoping I could save enough money. I planned to walk over foot trails through Connecticut and across Massachusetts. Well, the Lord didn't see fit to provide the money, but now He has opened another way for me. Reverend Bulkley of Wethersfield has agreed to take as a pupil. He is a very famous scholar, in medicine as well as theology. I couldn't have found a more learned teacher, even at Harvard."

Such frank talk about money embarrassed Sora. Her grandfather had seldom mentioned such a thing. She herself had rarely so much a coin in her hand, and for sixteen years she had never questioned the costly and beautiful things that surrounded her. In the last few months, to be sure, she had had a terrifying glimpse of what it might mean to live without money, but it seemed shameful to speak of it. Instead she tried to tell him of her own childhood, and it was as though they spoke a totally different language. She saw that Joe was scandalized at the way she had grown up on the island, running free as the wind in a world filled with sunshine. The green palms, the warm turquoise ocean rolling in to white beaches meant nothing to him. Didn't her parents give her work to do? He insisted.

            "I don't remember my parents at all," she told him. "My father was born on the island and was sent to England to school. He met my mother there and brought her back to Barbados with him. They had only three years together. They were both drowned on a pleasure trip to Antigua, and Grandfather and I were left alone."

            "Were there no women to care for you?"

            "Oh, slaves of course. I had a black nursemaid. But I never needed anyone but Grandfather. He was-" There were no words to explain Grandfather. In the twilight the memory of him was very sharp, the soft pink skin aging on his fine cheekbones, the thin aristocratic nose, the eyes, so shrewd and yet so loving. She dared not to trust her voice.

            "It must have been hard to lose him," said Joe gently. "I am so glad you have an aunt to come to."

            "She was my mother's only sister," said Sora, the tight pain easing a little. "Grandfather says my mother talked about her. Her name is Rachel, and she was charming and happy, and they said that she could have had her pick of any man in her father's regiment. But instead she fell in love with a Puritan and ran away to America without her father's blessing. She wrote to my mother from Wethersfield, and she has written a letter to me every year of my life." 

            "She is going to be very happy to see you."

            "I've tried so hard to imagine Aunt Rachel," mused Sora. "Grandfather said that my mother was thin and plain, like me. But Aunt Rachel was beautiful. Her hair and eyes will be dark, I suppose, like my mother. But what will her voice be like? My mother remembered that she was always laughing."

            Joe Kido looked earnestly at the girl beside him. "That was a great many years ago," he reminded her. "Don't forget, your aunt has been away from England for a long time."

Sora was aware again of that intangible warning that she could not interpret. Every day of this delay made it harder for her to shake off her uneasiness.

On the 7th day the ship had remained where it was. No wind blew from either direction. The day was also a warm one. Tai and two other sailors had taken advantage of the lack of wind and enjoyed the coolness of the river.

Tai looked up and caught Sora's eye. "Jump in, why don't you?" he taunted.

            "You warned me never to do it again," Sora replied incautiously.

            "Do you need an excuse? I'll shout for help and go under. You couldn't just stand there and watch me drown, could you?"

            "Yes, I could," Sora laughed in spite of herself. "and I would, too."

            "Then you can stay there and frizzle," responded Tai. As he paddled toward the ladder Sora watched him with both envy and relief. He had sounded as friendly an easy as on the first morning in Saybrook harbor.

As though to prove that the constraint between them was broken, in the next wait for the wind Tai strolled over to join her where she stood watching.

            "I'll wager you're wishing you'd never left Barbados," he said. "'Twas unfair of me to tease you."

"How I envied you," she exclaimed. "To get into that water and away from this filthy ship even for a moment!"

In a spilt second a squall darkened Tai's brown eyes. "Filthy- _The Brave Little Warrior?_"

            "Oh," she laughed impatiently, "I knew you're forever scrubbing. But that stable smell! I'll never get it out of my hair as I live!"

Tai's indignation found vent in scorn. "Maybe you think it would smell prettier with a hold full of human bodies, half of them rotting in their chains before anyone knew they were dead!"

Sora recoiled, as much from his angry tone as from the repulsive words. "What are you talking about? People- down in the hold?"

            "I suppose you never knew about slaves on Barbados?"

            "Of course I knew. We own- we used to own- more than one hundred. How else could you work a plantation?"

            "How did you think they got there? Did you fancy they traveled from Africa in private cabins like yours?"

She never thought about it at all. "But don't you have slaves in America?"

            "Yes, to our shame! Mostly down in Virginia way. But there are plenty of fine folk like you here in New England Who'll pay a fat price for black flesh without asking any questions how it got here. If my father would consent to bring back just one load of slaves we would have our new ketch by this summer. But we Kamiyas, we're almighty proud that our ship has a good stink of horses!"

Tai was gone again. What a touchy temper he had! She hadn't meant to insult his precious ship. Why did he deliberately turn everything to her disadvantage? He had been just on the point of making friends. Now the trip would be over before she could speak to him again. And why should she care- a rude, big haired sailor who took more notice to a strip of canvas than a brocaded gown? At least Joe Kido knew how to speak with respect.

But even Joe did not approve of her completely. She was forever astonishing him. Last night, for instance, she had reached impulsively for the volume he held, opened it at the marked page, and squinting curiously at the words in the wan light, had read aloud:

            "We are in the first place to apprehend that there is a time fixed and stated by God for the Devil to enjoy a dominion over our sinful and therefore woful world. Toward the end of his time the descent of the Devil in Wrath upon the World will produce more woful effects than what have been in former Ages. The death pangs of the Devil will make him to be more of a Devil than ever he was-"

            "Goodness!" Sora wrinkled up her nose. "Is this what you read all day long?" She looked up to find Joe staring at her.

            "You can read that?" he questioned, with the same amazement he had shown when she had proved she could swim. "How did you learn to read when you sat you just ran wild like a savage and never did any work?"

            "Do you call reading work? I don't even remember how I learned. When it was too hot to play, Grandfather would take me into his library where it was dark and cool, and read to me out loud from his books, and later I would sit beside him and read to myself while he studied."

            "What sort of books?" Joe's voice was incredulous.

            "Oh, history, and poetry, and plays. Yes, the plays were the best. Wonderful ones by Dryden and Shakespeare and Otway."

            "Your grandfather allowed a girl to read such things?"

            "They were beautiful, those plays! Have you never read them?"

Joe's pale cheeks reddened. "There are no such books in Saybrook. In Boston, perhaps. But the proper use of reading is to improve our sinful nature, and to fill our minds with God's holy word."

Sora stared at him. She pictured Grandfather, the blue-veined hands caressing the leather bindings, and she knew that he had not cherished his books with any thought of improving his sinful nature. She could imagine the twinkle that would have danced in his eyes at those seldom words. All the same, the reproof in Joe Kido's voice left her discomforted. Somehow she felt that Joe was always drawing back, uneasy at this friendship that was growing between them. And as she herself was being repelled by the hard uprightness that lay under his gentle voice and looks. She saw now that she could not tell him about the books she had loved any ore than she could make him see the palm trees swaying under a brilliant blue sky.

Early the next morning a contrary breeze came whistling along the river. The ship sprang to life, scudded the last few miles, and bumped against the wharf at Wethersfield landings. The shore, muffled in thick scarves of drifting mist, looked scarcely different from the miles of unbroken forest that they had seen for the past week.

Sailors began vigorously to roll out the great casks of molasses and the pile them along the wharf. Two of the men lowered over the side the seven leather trunks that held all of Sora's belongings and piled them, one beside the other, on the wet planking. Sora clambered down the ladder and stood on the alien shore that was to be her home.

Her heart sank. This is Wethersfield! Just a narrow sandy stretch of shoreline, a few piles sunk in the river with rough planking for a platform. Out of the mist jutted a row of cavernous wooden structures that must be warehouses, and beyond that the dense, dripping green of fields and woods. No town, not a house, only a few men and boys and two yapping dogs who had come to meet the boat. With something like panic Sora watched Goodwife Cruff descend the ladder and stride ahead of her husband along the wharf. Prudence, dragging at her mother's hand, gazed back imploringly as they passed.

            "Ma," she ventured timidly, "the pretty lady got off here at Wethersfield!"

Sora summoned the boldness to speak to her. "Yes, Prudence," she called clearly. "And I hope that I will see you often."

Goodwife Cruff halted and glared at Sora. "I'll thank you to let my child alone!" she spat out. "We do not welcome strangers in this town, and you be the kind we like least." Jerking Prudence nearly off her feet, she marched firmly up the dirt road and disappeared in the fog.

Even Joe Kido's farewells were abstracted. A formal bow, a polite wish for her arrival, and he, too, strode into the fog in quest of his new teacher. Then Sora saw Captain Kamiya approaching and knew that the moment had come when the truth would have to be told.

            "There must be some mistake," the captain began. "We signaled yesterday that we would reach Wethersfield at dawn. I expected that your aunt and uncle would be here to meet you no matter how early it might be."

Sora swallowed and gathered her courage. "Captain Kamiya," she said boldly, "my uncle and aunt can hardly be to blame for not meeting me. You see…well, to be honest, they do not even know that I am coming."

The captain's jaw tightened. "You gave me to understand that they had sent for you to come."

Sora lifted her head proudly. "I told you that they wanted me," she corrected him. "Mistress Wood is my mother's sister. Naturally she would want me to come." 

            "Even assuming that to be true, how could you be sure they were still in Connecticut?"

            "My aunt's last letter came only six months ago."

He scowled with annoyance. "You know very well that I should never have taken you on board had I known this. Now I shall have to take the time to find where your uncle lives and deliver you. But understand, I take no responsibility for your coming."

Sora's head went higher. "I am entirely responsible for my own coming," she assured him haughtily.

            "Fair enough," the captain responded grimly. "Look here, Tai," he turned back. "See it two hands can be spared to carry this baggage."

Sora's cheeks went red. Why should Tai, who had carefully been somewhere else during the whole of the last 9 days, have to be so handy at just this moment? Now whatever befell he was going to be there to witness it, with those mocking blue eyes and that maddening cool amusement. What if Aunt Rachel- but there was no time for doubt now. Between trying to hold her head up confidently and at the same time find a place to set down her dainty kid shoes between the slimy ruts and the mud puddles, Sora had all she could tend to.

To be continued…

Review PLEASE! ^_^


	3. chapter 3

Writing two stories at once is harder than I thought. ^_^' But I can do it! Well here's the third chapter. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

                        **Chapter 3**

****

Along with her pretty, Sora's spirits sank lower at each step. She had clutched at a hope that the dark fringe of dripping trees might somehow be concealing the town she had anticipated. But as they plodded along the dirt road past wide stumpy fields, her last hopes died. There was a mere settlement, far more lonely and dreary than Saybrook.

A man in a leather coat and breeches led a cow along the road. He stopped to stare at them, and even the cow looked astonished. Captain Kamiya took advantage of the meeting to ask directions.

"High Street," the man said, pointing his jagged stick. "William Wood's place is the third house beyond the Common."

High Street indeed! No more than a cow path! Sora's shoes were wet through, and the soaked ruffles of gown slapped against her ankles. She would naturally have lifted her skirts free of the uncut grass, but a new self-consciousness restrained her. She was aware at every step of the young man who strode behind her with a trunk balance easily on each shoulder. 

She relaxed slightly at the first glimpse of her uncle's house. At least it looked solid and respectable, compared to the cabins they had passed. Two and a half stories it stood, gracefully proportioned, and with leaded glass windows and clapboards weathered to a silvery gray.

The captain lifted the iron knocker and let it fall with a thud that echoed in the pit of the girl's stomach. For a moment she could not breath at all. Then the door opened and a thin, gray-haired woman stood on the threshold. She was quite plainly a servant, and Sora was impatient when the captain removed his hat and spoke with courtesy.

            "Do I have the honor of addressing-?"

The woman did not even hear him. Her look had flashed past to the girl who stood just behind, and her face had suddenly gone white. One hand reached to clutch the doorpost.

            "Margaret!" the word was no more than a whisper. For a moment the two women stared at each other. Then realization swept over Sora.

            "No, Aunt Rachel!" she cried. "Don't look like that! It is Sora! I am Margaret's daughter."

            "Sora? For a moment I thought- oh, my dear child, how wonderful!"

All at once such a warmth and happiness swept over her pale face that Sora too was startled. Yes, this strange woman was indeed Aunt Rachel, and once, a long time ago, she must have been very beautiful.

Captain Kamiya cleared his throat. "Well," he observed, "I am relieved that this has turned out well after all. What will you have me do with the baggage. ma'am?"

Rachel Wood's eyes focused for the first time on the three trunk bearers. "Goodness," she gasped, "do all these belong to you, child? You can just set them there I suppose, and I'll ask my husband about them. Can I offer you and your men some breakfast, sir?"

            "Thank you, we can't spare any more time. Good day, young lady. I'll tell my wife I saw you safely here."

            "I'm sorry to have caused you trouble," Sora said sincerely. "And I do thank you, all of you."

Two of the three sailors had already started back along the road, but Tai still stood beside the trunks and looked down at her. As their eyes met, something flashed between them, a question that was suddenly weighted with regret. But the instant was gone before she could grasp it, and the mocking light had sprung again into his eyes.

            "Remember," he said softly. "Only the guilty ones stay afloat." And then he was gone.

The doorway of William Wood's house led into a shallow hallway from which a narrow flight of stairs climbed steeply. Through a second door Sora stepped into the welcome of the great kitchen. In a fireplace that filled half one side of the room a bright fire crackled, throwing glancing patterns of light on creamy plaster walls. There was a gleam of rubbed wood and burnished pewter.

            "William! Girls!" cried her aunt. "Something wonderful has happened! Here is Sora Takenouchi, my sister Margaret's girl, come all the way from Barbados!"

Three people stared up at her from the plain board table. Then, from his place at the head, a man unfolded his tall angular body and came toward her.

            "You are welcome, Sora," he said gravely, and took her hand in his bony fingers. She could not read the faintest sign of welcome in his thin stern lips or in the dark eyes that glowered fiercely at her from under heavy grizzled eyebrows.

Behind him a girl sprang up from the table and came forward. "This is your cousin Jun," her aunt said, and Sora gasped with pleasure. Jun's face fulfilled in every exquisite detail the picture she had treasured of her imagined aunt. The clear white skin, the blue eyes under a dark fringe of lashes, the brown hair that curled against her shoulders, and the haughty lift of her perfect small chin- this girl could have been the toast of a regiment!

            "And your other cousin, Mimi." The second girl had risen more slowly, and at first Sora was only aware of the most extraordinary eyes she had ever seen, gray as rain at sea, wide and clear and filled with light. Then, as Mimi stepped forward, one shoulder dipped and jerked back grotesquely, and Sora realized that she leaned on crutches.

            "How lovely," breathed Mercy, her voice as arresting as her eyes, "to see you after all these years, Sora! Have you had any breakfast?"

            "I guess not. I haven't even thought of it." 

            "Then 'tis lucky we are eating late this morning," said her aunt. "Take her cloak, Jun. Come close to the fire, my dear, your skirt is soaking." 

As Sora threw back the woolen cloak, Jun's reaching hand fell back. "My goodness!" she exclaimed. "You wore a dress like that to _travel_ in? 

In her eagerness to make a good impression Sora had selected this dress with care, but here in this dress with care, but here in this plain room it seemed over elegant. The three other women were all wearing some nondescript sort of coarse gray stuff. Jun laid the cloak thoughtfully on a bench and reached to touch Sora's glove.

            "What beautiful embroidery," she said admiringly. 

            "Do you like them? I'll give you some just like them if you like. I have several pairs in my trunk."

Jun's eyes narrowed. Rachel Wood was setting a pewter mug and spoon and a crude wooden plate.

            "Sit here, Sora, where the fire will warm your back. Tell us how you happened to come so far. Did your grandfather come with you?"

            "My grandfather died four months ago," Sora explained. 

            "Why, you poor child! All alone there on that island! Who did come with you then?"

            "I came alone."

            "Praise be!" her aunt marveled. "Well, you're here safe and sound. Have some corn bread, my dear. 'Twas baked fresh yesterday, and there is new butter."


	4. chapter 4

YEAH! I'm so happy! I got my schedule 4 school today and I made it into AP Psyc! Anyways, thanks 4 all the great reviews for my stories! Well, here's chapter 4! Enjoy!! ^_^

Disclaimer: I don't own anything!

**Chapter 4 **

"These are the only clothes I have," protested Sora. "If they are not suitable, I shall stay here with Mimi."

Through the crystal Sabbath morning the Meeting House bell tolled steadily. William Wood stood on the threshold of his home, his bushy eyebrows massed close together as he surveyed the three women who waited to accompany him. Beside the plain blue homespun and white lines, which modestly clothed Aunt Rachel and Judith, Kit's flowered silk gave her the look of some vivid tropical bird lighted by mistake on a strange shore. The modish bonnet with curling white feathers seemed to her uncle a crowning affront.

"You will mock the Lord's assembly with such frippery," he roared.

This was the second time this morning that her uncle's wrath had descended on her heard. An hour ago she had declined to go to Meeting, saying airily that she and her grandfather had seldom attended divine service, except for the Christmas Mass. What an uproar she had caused! There was no Church of England in Wethersfield, her uncle had informed her, and furthermore, since she was now a member of his household she would forget her popish ideas and attend Meeting like a God-fearing woman. This time, however, he was baffled; he knew as well as she that there were no garments to spare in that house.

Rachel laid a placating hand on her husband's sleeve. "William," she pleaded, "everyone knows that the child has not had time to get new clothes. Besides, it would be wasteful to throw these aside. Sora looks very pretty, and I'm proud to have her go with us."

Jun was certainly not proud of her. Jun was as outraged as her father, though for a different reason. Her pretty mouth had a sulky droop, and the long fringe of lashes barely hid the envy and rebellion in her eyes. This first ventured outside her new home was not staring auspiciously for Sora, but as they set out along the road she could not repress her curiosity and bouncing spirits. If they were going to church then there must be a town somewhere beyond this narrow road. Under a brilliant blue sky Wethersfield held far more welcome than on that first foggy dawn. There was a delicious crispness in the air.

~*~ After the service ~*~

With a flash of pleasure she saw Joe Kido approaching, but her impulsive greeting froze as she saw that Reverend Bulkeley had the young man firmly by the elbow. Not till Joe had courteously acknowledged the minister's introductions did he turn to Sora.

"I was glad to see you in Meeting," he said gravely, "you must have found the sermon uplifting."

Sora was nonplussed.

"How very fortunate we were to hear Dr. Bulkley," Joe continued, taking her silence for agreement. "He rarely preaches now, since his retirement. 'Twas a truly remarkable sermon. Every word seemed to me inspired."

She was floundering for an answer when Jun spoke.

"Dr. Bulkley's sermons are always inspired," she said demurely, "especially when he preaches about the final judgment."

Joe marked Jun's presence with surprise and respect. Under the white bonnet her face was sweetly serious, her eyes dazzling blue.

Rachel Wood stepped up to Sora and steered her away from Joe and Jun.

"And now, Sora dear, here is another neighbor you must meet. Mistress Ishida, my niece from Barbados."

Sora curtsied, noting with satisfaction that this was one woman who did not despise vain adornment. Mistress Ishida's dove-colored damask with its gilt-edged lace must have come straight from England.

"And her son, Matt," continued her aunt. Braced to meet the reserve and suspicion she had encountered at every introduction so far, Sora was startled to meet the unmistakably dazzled gaze of Matt Ishida, and unconsciously she rewarded him with the first genuine smile she had managed this morning. Sora had no idea of what happened to her thin plain features when she smiled. Matt was speechless. As she turned to follow her aunt and Jun, Sora knew for certain that she would see his sturdy frame planted motionless in the path. She did not look back, but she knew.

Walking back along the road Jun signaled Sora to fall behind the others. "You never mentioned that there was a handsome man on that boat," she whispered accusingly.

"Handsome? You mean Joe Kido?"

"You certainly seemed to know each other well enough."

"Well, there was no one else to talk to. But most of the time he sat by himself and studied."

"Have you set your cap for him?" asked Jun bluntly.

Sora colored to the edge of her bonnet. She would never get used to Jun's outspokenness.

"Goodness, no!" she protested. "Whatever made you think of such a thing?"

"I just wondered," Jun responded, and as William Wood turned a stern look back at them, both girls walked in silence.

"You certainly made an impression on Matt Ishida," Jun ventured presently.

There was no point in denying it. "Perhaps because I was someone new," said Sora.

"Perhaps. You aren't exactly pretty, you know. But naturally Matt would be impressed by a dress like that."

A chill trickle of doubt began to cool the glow of the noontime sun and the memory of Matt Ishida's admiration. Oh, why had she ever come to this hateful place? 

TBC…

A/N: I need more people for my contest, if you're interested look up **Authors Wanted**. Then if you have an idea, send it to me. Next chapter coming soon. ^_^ 


	5. chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own anything!

**Chapter 5 **

After dinner that night, the women wearily set to work to clear the table, while William raked up the fire in the hearth. All at once he straightened up. "We have a matter to discuss," he said. "Young Matt Ishida asked permission today to pay his respects to my niece."

A spoon clattered from Jun's fingers. There was utter silence in the room as Rachel and both her daughters turned to stare at Sora. 

"You mean call on Sora?" Aunt Rachel's voice was incredulous.

"That is what I said."

"But he has hardly seen her…only for a moment after Meeting."

"She was conspicuous enough."

Sora felt her cheeks growing hot. Jun opened her mouth to say something, glancing at her father and closed it again.

"I suppose we can hardly refuse," ventured Rachel. "He is a member of the Society in good standing, and he has gone about it quite properly."

"His father is another King's man," said her husband. "He proposed in council that we join with Massachusetts. But what can we expect, now that we harbor a Royalist under our own roof? Bring a candle Rachel. We have wasted enough time for one night."

A constrained trio lingered after Rachel had climbed the stairs behind her husband. Mimi began quietly to make ready her own bed in the corner. A small wrinkle of concern marred her usually placid forehead.

"Well, I told you so!" Jun finally burst out. "I knew by the way he was staring at you after Meeting."

There was no use to pretend she didn't remember. Sora felt a small pleasurable stir of curiosity. "Do you know him, Mimi?"

"I know about him, of course," admitted Mimi.

"Who doesn't know about him?" added Jun. "Who hasn't heard that his father has three acres of the best land set aside, and the trees all marked to build the house the moment Matt makes up his mind? And he was just about to make it up, too, when you came along."

"We never really knew that, Jun," her sister reminded her gently. "We only thought so."

All at once Sora remembered. The first morning, when she had Jun try on one of her dresses, Jun had said 'If only Matt could see me in this.'

"Oh, dear," she exclaimed in dismay, "I don't want this Matt to come calling on me. Why, I've only seen him once, and I couldn't think of a word to say to him if he came. I'll tell Uncle William so in the morning."

"Don't you dare say anything to father!" Jun whirled on her.

"But if he…if you…"

"Matt never asked to call on me. I just said he was getting around to it."

" 'Tis not quite fair, really," Mimi considered soberly, "To hold it against Sora, just because we thought…"

"Oh, I'm not holding it against Sora," Jun said airily. Suddenly she tossed her head. "As a matter of fact, Sora can have Matt with my blessing. I've changed my mind. I'm going to marry Joe Kido." 

~*~*~ @----- ~*~*~

What on earth could she think of to say next? Sora wondered in desperation. She sat looking down at her folded hands, reluctant to lift her eyes to the young man who sat on the bench across the wide hearth. She knew that when she looked up she would find Matt's gaze fixed steadily upon her. For the last half hour they sat so. When a young man came to call what did one talk about? Was it all up to the girl? She had tried her best, but Matt seemed content just to sit, his back stiffly straight, his large capable hands resting squarely on his sturdy woolen clad knees. He looked impressive, in his cinnamon broadcloth coat and the fine linen shirt. His glossy beaver hat and white gloves were laid carefully on a chair near the door. Matt seemed to feel that merely by coming he had done his share. Apparently it was up to her to provide the conservation.

Aunt Rachel had laid a special fire in the company room and set lighted candles on the table. From the kitchen across the hall Sora could hear the voices of the family as they sat cozily about the fire that was still welcome on these cool Mat evenings. Tonight she longed to be with them. She would welcome even the Bible reading at this moment. She took a deep breath and tried again.

"Is it always so chilly in New England, even in May?"

Matt considered this. "I think this spring is a bit warmer than usual," he decided.

As though in answer to her urgent prayer for relief, a knock sounded on the outside door, and as Aunt Rachel went to answer, Sora heard Joe's voice. Her aunt welcomed him cordially, and in a few moments put her head in at the parlor door, her understanding glance taking in the two silent young people.

"Why don't you both come and join us?" she suggested. "Joe Kido has come to call, and we can pop some corn for a treat." Bless Aunt Rachel!

After a handful of fluffy white kernels Matt relaxed a trifle. There was something irresistible about popcorn. Joe, his pale cheeks flushed with the heat, managed the long shaker with a practiced hand. Jun blossomed suddenly in the firelight, and her laughter was infectious. Mimi's eyes were shining with pleasure. Rachel, with a ghost of the charm she must once have possessed, succeeded in drawing Matt, if not actually into the circle, at least to its warm circumference. Even William unbent enough to ask courteously, "Does your father have all his field sown?"

"Yes, sir," replied Matt.

"Notice he's cutting some trees up Vexation way."

"Yes, I'm planning to build my house come autumn. We have marked some good white oak for the clapboards."

Sora stared at him. Matt had not spoken so many words all evening. Aunt Rachel encouraged him.

"My husband tells me you have been appointed a Viewer of Fences," she smiled. "That is a fine honor for so young a man."

"Thank you, ma'am."

After a few minutes of complete silence, Sora jumped as the square clock in the corner twanged eight o'clock. Only one hour! It seemed like the longest evening she had ever lived through. Matt rose deliberately to his feet.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Mistress Wood," he said politely.

Joe looked up, startled that the time had passed so quickly, and followed Matt's example. As the door shut behind their backs, a long sigh escaped Sora's mouth.

"Well, that's over with," she exclaimed. "At least we won't have to go through that again."

"Not until next Saturday night at least," laughed Mimi.

Sora shook her head positively. "He'll never come again," she said. Was she altogether relieved at the thought?

"Why, whatever makes you say that, child?" asked Rachel, busily raking up the fire.

"Couldn't you see? He hardly spoke a word to me."

"Matt said he was starting to build his house, didn't he? What more could you want him to say?" Jun asked.

"He just happened to mention that."

"Mat Ishida never just happened to mention anything in his life," said Jun. "He knew exactly what he was saying."

"I can't see why just building a house…"

"Don't you know _anything_, Sora?" scoffed Jun. "Matt's father gave him that land three years ago, on his thirteenth birthday, and Matt said that he would never start to build his house until his mind was made up."

""That's ridiculous, Jun. He couldn't mean any such thing…so soon…could he, Mimi?"

"I'm afraid he could." Mimi smiled at her cousin's confusion. "I agree that Matt was telling all of us…you most of all… that his mind is made up. Whether you like it or not, Sora, Matt is going to come courting."

"But I don't want him to!" Sora was close to panic. "I don't want him to come at all. We…we cant even talk to each other!"

"Seems to me you're pretty choosy," snapped Jun. Don't you know Matt is able to build the finest house in Wethersfield if he wants to? Does he have to keep you amused as well?"

Rachel put a reassuring hand on Sora's shoulder. "The girls are only teasing you, Sora," she said gently.

"Then you don't think…"

"Yes, I do think Matt is serious. But you don't need to be worried, dear. No one is going to hurry you, least of all Matt himself. He is a very fine young man. Of course you feel like strangers now. But I think you'll find sufficient talk about before long."

But would they? Sora wondered, climbing the stairs to bed. Her doubts persisted through the week. A second Saturday passed, a third and forth, and Matt's calls came in a pattern. 

Matt seemed to find nothing lacking in those evenings. For him it was enough simply to sit across the room and look at her. It was flattering, she had to admit. The most eligible bachelor in Wethersfield and handsome, actually, in his substantial way. Sometimes, aware that Matt's eyes were on her face, she felt her breath tightening in a way that was strange and not unpleasant. (A/N: Ok, here's a list of the couplings in this story: Sorato, Taiora, Mimi x Joe, Matt x Jun, Joe x Jun, but I'm not telling you how it ends up. * evil laugh*) 

Perhaps she would not have thought about Matt so much had there been anything else to break the long monotonous stretch from Saturday to Saturday. Sora was not used to such labor from sunrise to sunset. She was Sora Takenouchi. She had not been reared to do the work of slaves. And Matt Ishida was the only person in Wethersfield who did not expect her to be useful, who demanded nothing, and offered his steady admiration as proof that she was still of some worth. No wonder that she found herself looking forward to Saturday evening. 

A/N: you know the drill. Review if you want, next chapter coming soon! ^_^

A/N: Thanks for all the great reviews! Sorry it took so long for me to do this chapter, but being the procrastinator that I am, looking for a job is very hard! Well here's the sixth chapter. Enjoy! ^_^


	6. chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own anything!

**Chapter 6**

Meeting Hannah Tupper

"The onion field in the south meadow needs weeding," announced William one morning in early June. "If Jun and Sora can be spared, they can spend the morning at it."

The two girls who set out soon after breakfast did not provide such a contrast as on Meeting Day. Scandalized to see Sora wearing out her finery with scrubbing and cooking, Rachel and Mimi had made her a calico dress exactly the same as Jun's. It was coarse woven and simply made, without so much as a single bow for trimming, but it was certainly far more suited to the menial work she had to do in it. Beyond a doubt, too, it had made for an easier relationship with her cousin. This morning Jun seemed almost friendly.

"What a wonderful day!" she exclaimed. "Aren't you glad we don't have to stay inside today, Sora?"

Sora felt quite cheerful. It really was a wonderful day, bright blue sky, and the fields and woods all a soft green. The roadway was boarded with daisies and buttercups, pale and thin, of coarse, compared to the brilliant masses of color in Barbados, but pretty all the same. And for the first time since she had come to Wethersfield she did not feel chilly.

The girls passed the Meeting House, turned down Short Street and went on down the path that was known as the South Road. The Great Meadow, Jun explained, was the grassy land that lay within the wide loop of the river.

"No one lives there," Jun told her, "Because in the spring the river floods over sometimes the fields are completely covered. After the water goes down we can use the land. 'Tis good rich soil and every landowner has a lot for pasture or gardens. Father is entitled to a bigger lot, but he has no one to help him."

As they came out of the shelter of the trees and the Great Meadows stretched before them, Sora caught her breath. She had not expected anything like this. From the first moment, in a way she could never explain, the Meadows claimed her and made her their own. As far as she could see they stretched on either side, a great level sea of green, broken here and there by a solitary graceful elm. Was it the fields of sugar cane they brought to mind, or the endless reach of the ocean to meet the sky? Or was it simply the sense of freedom and space and light that spoke to her of home?

If only I could be here alone, without Jun or anyone, she thought with longing. Someday I'm going to come back to this place, when there is time just to stand still and look at it. How often she would come back she had no way of foreseeing, nor could she know that never, in these months to come, would the Meadows break the promise they held for her at this moment, a promise of peace and quietness and of comfort for a troubled heart.

"What are you looking at?" demanded Jun, turning back impatiently. "Father's field is farther on."

"I was wondering about that little house," said Sora, by way of excuse. "I thought that you said no one lived down here." Far over to the right, at the edge of the marshy pond, a wisp of smoke curled gently from a lopsided chimney. Beyond the little shack something moved. Was it a shadow, or a slight stooped figure?

"Oh…that's the Widow Tupper." Jun's voice was edged with contempt. "Nobody but Hannah Tupper would live there by Wethersfield Pond, right at the edge of the swamp, but she likes it. They can't persuade her to leave."

"What if the river floods?"

"It did, four years ago, and her house was covered right over. No one knows where she hid, but when the water went down, there she was again. She cleaned out the mud and went right on though nothing had happened. She's been there as long as I can remember."

"All alone?"

"With her cats. There's always a cat around. People say she's a witch."

"Do you believe in witched, Jun?"

"Maybe not," said Jun doubtfully. "All the same, it gives me a creepy feeling to look at her. She's queer, that's certain, and she never comes to Meeting. I'd just rather not get any closer."

After standing there watching the old women, Jun interrupted her thoughts.

"Well, what are you still standing around here for? Father says we have to do three rows before we can go home for dinner."

~*~*~*~*~

The next day was the worst day that Sora had ever experienced since she got here. Jun had set Sora to tend to the stirring of soap, while she readied the soap barrel. Sora tried to keep a gingerly distance from the kettle. The strong fumes of lye stung her eyelids and stirring the heavy mass tired her arms and shoulders. Her stirring became more and more halfhearted till Jun snatched the stick in exasperation. "It's lumping on you," she scolded, "and you can just blame yourself for it! Now we have lumpy soap all summer!"

Then there was the corn pudding incident. The corn meal had to be added to the boiling kettle a pinch at a time. Sora's patience ran out and poured half a cup of corn meal into the pot, thus ruining their dinner. 

The next day Sora overheard Jun tell her mother: "A five-year-old could do better. As if things weren't bad enough here in this house. If we had to have a cousin at all why couldn't it have been a boy?"

"A boy!" Rachel's answer was a long sigh. "Yes, a boy would have been different, that's true. Poor William!"

Turning, Sora ran out the door and down the roadway, blind to reason or decorum, past the Meeting House, past the loiterers near the town pump. She scarcely knew where her feet were taking her, but something deep within her had chosen a destination. She did not stop until she reached the Great Meadow. There, she fell face down in the grass, her whole body wrenched with sobs.

All at once, with an instinctive quickening of her senses, Sora Knew that she was not alone, that someone was very close. She stared up. Only a few feet away a woman was sitting watching her, a very old woman with short-cropped white hair and faded, almost colorless eyes set deep in an incredibly wrinkled face. As Sora Stared at her she spoke in a rusty murmuring voice.

"Thee did well, child, to come to the Meadow. There is always a cure here when the heart is troubled."

For a moment Sora was too dumbfounded to move.

" I know," the murmuring voice went on. "Many's the time I've found it here myself. That is why I live here."

Sora stiffened with a cold prickle against her spine. Those thin stooped shoulders, that tattered gray shawl…this was the queer women from Wethersfield Pond…Hannah Tupper, the witch! The girl stared, horrorstruck, at the odd-shaped scar on the woman's forehead. Was it the devil's mark?

"Folks wonder why I want to live here so close to the swamp," the soft husky voice continued. "But I think thee knows why. I could see it in thy face a moment back. The Meadow has spoken to thee, too, hasn't it?"

"I didn't really intend to come here," Sora found herself explaining. "I always meant to come back, but this morning I just seemed to get here by accident."

Hannah Tupper shook her head, as though she knew better. "Thee must be hungry," she said, more briskly. "Come, and I'll give thee a bite to eat." She hitched herself awkwardly to her feet. Reminded of the time, Sora leaped up and shook out her skirts.

"I must go back," she said hastily. "I must have been gone for hours."

The woman peered up at her. Her eyes, almost lost in the folds of leathery wrinkles, had a humorous gleam. A toothless smile crinkled her cheeks.

"Thee better not go back looking so," she advised. "Whatever it is, thee can stand up to it better with a bit of food inside. Come along, 'tis no distance at all."

Sora wavered. She was suddenly ravenous, but more than that, she was curious. Whatever this queer little woman might be, she was certainly harmless, and unexpectedly appealing. Giving way to her own impulse, Sora hurried after her. Late as it was, she was far from eager to return to her Uncle William's.

"There's a well behind the house," said Hannah. "Draw some water and wash thy face, child."

After doing so Sora slowly entered the shack known as the witch's home. She looked about her. " 'Tis a pretty room," she said without thinking, and then wondered how that could be, when it was plain and bare. Perhaps it was the sunlight on the boards that were scrubbed smooth and white, or perhaps it was the feeling of peace that lay across the room as tangibly as the bar of sunshine.

Hannah nodded. "My Thomas built this house. He made it good and snug, otherwise it wouldn't have stood all these years."

"How long have you lived here?" Sora asked curiously.

"I couldn't rightly tell." Hannah answered.

There were a hundred questions that Sora dared not to ask. Instead she looked around the room, and noticed with surprise the one ornament it contained. Jumping to her feet, she seized from the shelf the small rough stone and held it in her hand. "Why, 'tis coral!" she exclaimed. "How did it get here?"

A small secret smile brightened the wrinkled face. "I have a seafaring friend," Hannah said importantly. "Whenever he comes back from a voyage, he brings me a present."

Sora almost laughed. Of all the unlikely things… a romance! She could imagine him, this seafaring friend, white haired and weather-beaten, coming shyly to the door with his small treasures from some distant shore.

"Perhaps this came from my home," she considered, turning the stone in her hand. "I came from Barbados, you know."

"Do tell…from Barbados!" marveled the woman. "Thee seemed different somehow. Is it like paradise, the way he says? Sometimes I mistrust he's just telling tales to an old woman."

"Oh, everything he has told you is true!" answered Sora fervently. " 'Tis so beautiful…flowers every day of the year. You can always smell them in the air, even out to sea."

"Thee has been homesick," said Hannah softly.

"Yes," admitted Sora, laying down the stone. "I guess I have. But Most of all, I miss my grandfather so much."

"That is the hardest," nodded the old woman. "What was thy grandfather like, child?"

Tears sprang into Sora's eyes. "I hate it here," she confessed. "I don't belong. They don't want me. Aunt Rachel would, I know, but she has too many worries. Uncle William hates me. Mimi is wonderful and Jun tries to be friendly, but I'm just a trouble to them all. Everything I say and do is wrong!"

"So thee came too the meadow," said Hannah, patting the girl's hand with her small gnarled claw. "What went so wrong this morning?" She listened as Sora told her what had happened. 

"What can I do now?" she pleaded. "How can I ever go back and face them?"

"Come I have something to show thee." Hannah said.

Outside the house, against a sheltered wall to the south, a single stalk of green thrust upwards, with slender rapier like leaves and one huge scarlet blossom. Sora went down on her knees.

"It looks just like the flowers at home," she marveled. "I din't know you had such flowers here."

"It came all the way from Africa, from the Cape of Good Hope," Hannah told her. "My friend brought the bulb to me, a little brown thing like an onion. I doubted it would grow here, but it just seemed determined to keep trying and look what has happened."

Sora glanced up suspiciously. Was Hannah tring to preach to her? But the old woman merely poked gently at the earth around the alien plant. "ihope my friend will come while it is still blooming," she said. "He will be so pleased."

"I must go now," Sora said, getting to her feet Then something prompted her to add honestly, "You've given me the answer, haven't you? I think I know what you mean."

The woman shook her head. "The answer is in the heart," she said softly. "Thee can always hear it if thee listens for it."

Sora made her way down the road knowing what she would say to her uncle when she returned.

TBC…


	7. chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own anything! 

**Chapter 7**

"I met the witch who lives down in the meadow." Sora told Mimi later after she had received a rather harsh punishment. 

Mimi and her mother exchanged startled glances.

"You mean you talked with her?" An anxious frown wrinkled Mimi's forehead.

"I went into her house and ate her food. She's the gentlest little person you ever saw. You'd love her, Mimi."

"Sora." Aunt Rachel set down her heavy flatiron and regarded her niece seriously. "I think you had better not say anything to the others about meeting this woman."

"Why, Aunt Rachel, you of all people! You can't believe she's a witch?"

"No, of course not. That is just malicious gossip. But no one in Wethersfield has anything to do with Hannah Tupper."

"Why on earth not?"

"She is a Quaker."

"Why is that so dreadful?"

Rachel hesitated. "I can't tell you exactly. The Quakers are queer stubborn people. They don't believe in the Sacraments."

"What difference does that make? She is as kind and good as…as you are, Aunt Rachel. I could swear to it."

"Promise me you won't go there again, Sora." Aunt Rachel pleaded. "You won't, will you, Sora?"

"I can't promise that, Aunt Rachel," said Sora unhappily. "I'm sorry, but I just can't. Hannah was good to me, and she's very lonely."

"I know you mean to be kind," insisted Rachel. "But you are very young, child. You don't understand how sometimes evil can seem innocent and harmless. 'Tis dangerous for you to see that woman. You must believe me."

~*~*~*~

Sora had bide her time for two weeks before she could find another opportunity to visit the Meadows. On one hot afternoon, Sora and Jun finished their stint of onion rows a little early, and as they trudged back along the dusty path, Sora looked across the fields to the roof of the lopsided house near the pond and knew that she could not pass by one more time.

"I am going over there to see Hannah Tupper," she announced, trying to sound matter-of-fact.

"The witch? Have you lost your senses, Sora?" Jun was scandalized.

"She's not a witch, and you know it. She's a lonely old woman, and Jun, you couldn't help liking her if you knew her."

"How do you know?" demanded Jun.

Sora gave her cousin a short and careful version of the meeting in the meadow.

"I don't see how you dared," Jun exclaimed. "Really, Sora, you do the oddest things."

"Well I'm going to see her now. I won't be long."

"What shall I tell them at home?"

"Tell them the truth if you like," responded Sora airily, knowing quite well that Jun, for all her disapproval, would never give her away. 

As Sora made her way to the house, she heard a small humming sound. Hannah sat before her small flax wheel, her foot moving briskly on the treadle.

"Sit down, child, while I finish this spindle." She smiled as though Sora had merely stepped through the door. Sora perched on a bench and watched the whirring wheel.

"I came to tell you that I made my peace with my uncle," she said at last. "I couldn't come before because I've been teaching in the school that we have at our house."

Hannah nodded. There was silence for a moment between the two, and then a shadow fell across the sunlight. A tall figure filled the doorway. Sora started. For a moment she thought that Hannah had actually had conjured up a vision. There, unbelievably, was Tai Kamiya, the captain's son, leaning easily against the doorpost, with that well-remembered lopsided smile, and mocking tone in his brown eyes.

"I might have known," he said, "that you two would find each other."

Hannah's face crinkled up with pleasure. "I knew thee would come today," she triumphed. "I saw the ship pass Wright's Island this morning. Sora, my dear, this is the seafaring friend I told thee about."

Tai made a bow. "Mistress Takenouchi and I are already acquainted," he acknowledged. He tried to set down, without anyone's noticing, the small barrel he carried under one arm, but Sora's glance was quick. A keg of fine Barbados molasses. So it was not just coral trinkets and flower bulbs that this seafaring friend of Hannah's brought from afar! Hannah caught the action, too. 

"Bless thee, Tai," she said quietly. "Now sit down and tell us where thee has been this time."

"Charlestown," he answered, settling on an upturned barrel. 

"And thy father?"

"He is well and sends you his greetings. Has the old she-goat had her kids yet?" he asked easily. "Don't tell me you've sold them before I could see them."

"I had to, Tai," Hannah said regretfully. "They were getting into the corn field. They brought me a good price…two hanks of wool for a new cape."

Tai leaned back now and surveyed Sora with frank interest. She had forgotten the intense brown of his eyes.

"Tell me," he said to her, "how did they ever let you find your way to Hannah?"

Sora hesitated, and Hannah chuckled. "How did thee find a way here?" she demanded of him. "'Tis a strange thing, that the only friends I have I found in the same way, lying flat in the meadows, crying as though their hearts would break."

The two young people stared at each other. "You?" breathed Sora incredulously. 

Tai laughed. "I'll have you know that _I_ was only eight years old," he explained.

"Were you running away?"

"I certainly was. We were on the way down the river, and my father had just told me he was leaving me at Saybrook to spend the winter with my grandmother and go to school. It seemed like the end of the world. I'd never in my life seen anything like the meadows. They went on and on, and all at once I was hungry and thoroughly lost and scared. Hannah found me and brought me here and washed the scratches on my legs. She even gave me a kitten to take back with me."

"A little gray tiger," Hannah remembered.

"That cat was our lucky piece for six years. Not one of the men would have weighed anchor without her."

Sora was entranced. "I can just see you," she laughed. "Did Hannah give you blueberry cake too?"

"Right here at the table," nodded Hannah. "I'd forgotten how a little boy could eat."

"Did you go back to school?" questioned Sora.

"Yes. Hannah walked back to the ship with me, and somehow I felt bold as a lion. I didn't even mind the thrashing that was waiting for me."

"I know," said Sora, recalling the walk back to her house.

"And now thee can both have supper with me again," said Hannah, delighted as a child at the prospect of a party. But Sora jumped to her feet with a guilty glance at the sun.

"Oh, dear," she exclaimed. "I didn't realize it was time for supper."

Hannah smiled up at her. "God go with thee, child," she said softly. She did not need to say more. They both knew that Sora would come back.

Tai followed her to the door. "You didn't say what you were running away from," he reminded her. "Has it gone so badly here in Wethersfield?"

She might have told him, but looking up at him she caught the "I told you so" look in his brown eyes that silenced her. Was Tai laughing at her for acting like an eight-year-old? Her head went up.

"Certainly not," she said with dignity. "My aunt and uncle have been very kind."

"And you've managed to stay out of the water?"

That superior tone of his! "As a matter of fact," she told him haughtily, "I am a teacher at a dame school."

Tai swept her a bow. "Fancy that!" he said. "A schoolmistress!" Instantly she wished she had not said that.

But Tai followed her into the road, his mocking tone changed. "Whatever it was," he said seriously, "I'm glad you ran into Hannah. She needs you. Keep an eye on her, won't you?"

What a contradictory person he was, she thought, hurrying along South Road. Always putting her at a disadvantage somehow, and yet, now and then, surprising her, letting her peek through a door that seemed to slam shut again before she could actually see inside. She would never know what to expect from him.

TBC…

A/N: Review please! For those of you that are waiting for the next chapter of The English Assignment, don't worry, it's coming soon (deleting death threats in the process.) ^_^' Next chapter coming soon! 


	8. chapter 8

A/N: Sorry it took so long for this chapter to finally come out, but I'll be working on this more, cause I happen to really like this story. So read and review.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, but since Toei isn't using these characters anymore I think they should let the authors here at FF.net have them. Anyways, on with the fic!! Enjoy!! ^_^

                                                                        **Chapter 8**

                                                            **Teaching Little Prudence**

Sora was sitting in the kitchen working on her sewing. Sighing, Sora glanced towards the doorway, and as she did so a sudden motion caught her attention. She moved quickly. 

            'I'm sure someone is out there again,' she thought. 'Today I'm going to find out.'

Yes, for the third time a little bunch of flowers, buttercups and wild geraniums, lay on the doorstep. As she bent to pick them up she was certain that a shadowy figure slipped behind the trees. Curiosity made her forget about her chores, and stepping into the road she saw a small figure plainly and recognized Prudence Cruff.

            "Prudence," she called. "Don't run away. Is it you who left the flowers?"

The child came slowly from behind the tree. She was thinner than ever, clad in a shapeless sack like affair tied about her middle. Her eyes, much too big for her pinched, little face, gazed at Sora with longing. She reminded Sora of a young fawn that had wandered near the house one morning. It had drawn nearer just like this, quivering with eagerness at the food Mimi set out, yet tensed to spring at the slightest warning. 

            "Who are the flowers for, Prudence?" 

            "You." The child's voice was nothing more than a harsh whisper. 

            "Thank you. They're lovely. But why don't you come into the school like the others?"

            "I'm too big," stammered Prudence.

            "You mean you know how to read already?"

            "Naw, Pa wanted me to go to school, but Ma says I'm too stupid."

            "You don't really believe that, do you Prudence?"

A bare toe dug into the dirt of the roadway. "I dunno. I can hear you when the door is open. I bet I can learn as good as them."

            "Of course you could, and you ought to. Why don't you come in with me right now, and see how easy it is?"

Prudence shook her head violently. "Somebody'd tell on me."

            "What if they did?"

            "Ma'd cane me. I'm not s'posed to speak to you."

Remembering Goodwife Cruff's hard thin mouth, Sora did not urge. "Prudence," she suggested instead, "you could learn to read by your self if you really wanted to."

            "I haven't any horn."

Sora remembered something. "Is there a place you could meet me where no one would tell on you?" she asked. "Can you get to the Meadows?"

Prudence nodded. "Nobody cares where I go, just so's I get my work done."

            "Then if you try to meet me there this afternoon, I'll bring you a hornbook and I'll teach you to read some of it. Will you come?"

            "If I get finished…" Prudence breathed.

            "You know the road that leads to the pond?"

Prudence gulped. "The witch lives there!"

            "Don't be silly! She's a gentle old woman who wouldn't harm a field mouse. Anyway, you don't need to go that far. There's a big willow tree just down the path. I'll wait for you there. Will you try?"

The struggle behind those round eyes hurt to watch. "Maybe," whispered Prudence, and then she turned and ran.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

            "'Tis getting late, Prudence. I don't want you to get into trouble, and I must go back, too.

The child sighed and held out the hornbook obediently.

            "That is yours, Prudence. I meant it as a present for you."

            "She'd never let me have it," the little girl said regretfully. "You'll have to keep it for me."

Sora smiled and made a decision. She had been wanting an excuse to take Prudence to Hannah. 

            "I know what we'll do," she suggested. "We'll leave the book here with Hannah. Then any time you want to use it you can come and get it from her."

Terror bleached the child's face.

            "Prudence, listen to me. Your afraid of Hannah because you don't know her."

            "She'll cut my nose off if I go near her!"

Sora laughed, then took the child's hands in her own and spoke as earnestly as she knew how. "You trust me, don't you?"

The small child nodded solemnly.

            "Then come with me and see for yourself. I promise you, on my honor, nothing will hurt you."

The bony hand in hers was trembling as they walked down the grassy path, but Prudence stepped resolutely beside her. Sora's heart ached suddenly with pity and gratitude at such trust.

            "I've brought another rebel to visit you," she announced as Hannah came to the door. Hannah's pale eyes twinkled.

            "What a wonderful day!" she exclaimed. "Four new kittens, and now visitors! Come and see."

Under a corner of the cabin, on a pile of soft grass, the great yellow cat curled protectively around four tiny balls of fluff. Her topaz eyes glowed up at them, and her purr was boastful. Completely disarmed, Prudence went down on her knees.

            "Oh, the dear little things," she whispered, reaching one reverent finger. "Two black ones, and one striped, and one yellow one." Over her head Sora and Hannah smiled.

            "If thee is very, very careful, thee can pick one up and hold it," Hannah told her.

With a black kitten cradled in her hands, Prudence watched them find a safe corner for the hornbook. 

            "Thee is welcome any time, child. I'll keep it safe for thee. Now show me what thee has learned today. What letter is this?"

In the clean white sand on the floor Hannah traced a careful B. Looking at Prudence, Sora held her breath. But there was no trace of fear in those fawnlike eyes as Hannah held out the stick. Boldly Prudence reached to take it in her own hand, and carefully and proudly she traced the lines herself.

            "I believe there must be a morsel of blueberry cake for such a smart pupil," praised Hannah.

            The morsel of cake vanished in a twinkling. "Hannah's magic cure for every ill," Tai had said. "Blueberry cake and a kitten." Sora smiled to see it working its charm on Prudence. But there was an invisible ingredient that made the cure unfailing. The Bible name for it was love.

            "Why do they say she's a witch?" Prudence demanded, as the two walked slowly back along the path.

            "Because they never tried to get to know her. People are afraid of things they don't understand. You won't be afraid of her now, will you? You will go to see her when you can, even if I'm not there?" 

The child considered. "Yes," she said finally. "I'm going back first chance I get. Not just because the horn is there. I think Hannah is lonesome. Of course, she has the cat to talk to, but don't you think sometime she must want somebody to answer back?"

Watching Prudence scurry off toward home, Sora had a moment's misgiving. As always, she had acted on impulse, never stopping to weigh the consequences. Now, too late, she began to wonder. Had it been fair to draw Prudence into her secret world? She felt completely justified in deceiving her aunt and uncle; they were narrow-minded and mistaken. But the thought of Goodwife Cruff made her shudder. Yet Prudence had looked so miserable. She needed a friend. For a few hours those wary anxious eyes had been filled with shining trust and happiness. Wasn't that worth a little risk? Sora shook off her qualms and set her own face towards home and another dull evening. 

Matt could talk of nothing but his house these days. Every evening he must report exactly which trees had been cut, which boards fashioned. Today, he reported, as the family moved inside to escape the twilight mist that rose from the river, he had overseen the carpenter who was splitting the white oak for clapboards.

            "I don't think I made any mistake in deciding on riven oak," he told them. "Of course, two shilling a day is high for a carpenter, but…"

Sometimes Sora wanted to stop her ears. Would she have to hear the price of every nail the finest that money could buy? She was tired of the house already before the first board was in place.

Jun, however, took a lively interest in such details. She had a flair for line and form and a definite mind of her own, and it was plain, to Sora at least, that as Matt planned his house Jun was comparing it, timber for timber, with the house she dreamed for herself. Her purpose was only too apparent as she made adroit attempts to draw Joe Kido into the discussion.

            "I think you should have one of those new roofs, Matt," she said now. "Gambrel, they call them. Like the new house in the road to Hartford. I think they look so distinguished, don't you, Joe?"

Mimi laughed at Joe's bewilderment. "I don't think Joe even notices there's a roof over his head," she teased gently, "unless the rain happens to leak through onto his nose."

            "And then he'd just pick up his book and move somewhere else," Sora added.

Matt did not smile. He was considering the matter gravely. "Perhaps you're right, Jun. When I ride down to Hartford way tomorrow I'll take a good look at that house. Of course, you never know whether to risk a new style like that."

Oh, for heaven's sake! Sora gave her yarn an impatient jerk that sent the ball bouncing across the floor. Too tardily Matt bent down to catch it and had to get heavily down on his knees to retrieve it from under the settle. Now some men, Sora reflected, could pick up a ball of yarn without looking ridiculous. She thanked him with little grace.

It was Mimi, as usual, who quietly steered them into untroubled water. "What did you bring to read to us tonight, Joe?" she inquired. "Jun, light a pine knot for him to see by."

In this one thing they were all united. Joe loved to read out loud, and they were equally happy to listen. For all of them were filled with hard labor, with little enough to satisfy the hunger of their minds and spirits. The book that Joe shared with them had opened a window to a larger world. Perhaps to each of them, listening, glimpsed through that window a private world, unknown to the others. William Wood sat scowling, his keen mind challenging and weighing each new thought. Rachel, Sora suspected, welcomed the peace and relaxation of those moments as much as the reading itself. What often wished that Joe would read something besides the religious tracts he so admired, but even for her impatient spirits the beauty of his voice wove magic spell.

Tonight it was poetry. "These were written by a woman in Boston," he explained. "Anne Bradstreet, wife of a governor of Massachusetts. Dr. Bulkeley feels they are worthy to be compared with the finest poetry of England. This is what she writes about the sun:

            "Art thou so full of glory, that no Eye

            Hath strength, thy shining Rayes once to behold?

            And is thy splendid Throne erect so high?

            As to approach it, can no earth mould.

            How full of glory then must thy Creator be?

            Who gave this bright light luster unto thee;

            Admir'd ador'd for ever, be that Majesty."

Sora's needles moved more slowly. Her jangling nerves relaxed, and as the clear low voice went on a contentment wrapped her round like the sunshine in the meadow.

Joe is a part of the family already, she reflected. We have all come to love him. Yet I still feel in awe of him, a little. Uncle William thinks he is weak, but I suspect that underneath they are both made of the same New England rock. For Joe everything in his life, even the girl he marries, will always be second to his work. Does Jun realize that, I wonder, or does she think she can change him?

Suddenly, perhaps because the poetry had opened her heart, Sora raised her eyes and made a discovery. Mimi sat, as usual, slightly in the shadow beside the hearth, her needles moving so automatically that she rarely glanced at her work. Now a brightly glowing bead of resin threw a brief light across her face. Those great listening eyes were fastened on the face of the young man bent over hi book, and for one instant Mimi's whole heart was revealed. Mimi was in love with Joe Kido. Faster than the thought the shadows claimed Mimi again. Sora glanced hastily around the circle. No one else noticed. Jun sat dreaming, a little secret smile on her lips. Rachel nodded drowsily, too tired to keep her mind on the reading. William sat intent, ready to pounce on a hint of heresy.

I must have imagined it, thought Sora, yet her hands were shaking. Mimi and Joe Kido! How right…how incredibly, utterly right… and how impossible! 

I wish I had not seen it, she thought in a burst of sadness. Yet she knew she would never forget as long as she lived. The flame that had burned in Mimi's eyes had such purity, such complete selflessness, that everything Sora had ever known seemed dim in its light. What must it be to care for someone like that?      


	9. chapter 9

                                                                            **Chapter 9**

                                                            **Working a lazy afternoon away**

As mid- August came into play, a hundred new tasks waited to fill the hours. The onions must be harvested, packed into the rough sacks that Mimi had sewn, and stacked ready to be hauled into Hartford or bartered for goods when a sailing ship came up the river. Early apples waited to be peeled and sliced and dried in the sun for the winter's use. There was cider to be made from wild pears. The first corn stood high in the meadow, row after endless row, waiting to be plucked. Often Sora and Jun and even Rachel worked side by side with William in the fields until sunset, and there was not a moment to spare. It was hard now to find the time for stolen visits with Prudence and Hannah. Occasionally, by chance, Sora would find herself alone, and rushing through her task at double speed, she would steal down the path to the pond, hoping that Prudence too had been able to escape.

One sunny day a whole empty afternoon stretched unexpectedly before her. She had been helping Jun and Rachel to make the winter supply of candles. It was hot sticky work. For two days they had been boiling the small gray bayberries that Sora and Jun had gathered in the fields, and Rachel had skimmed of the thick greenish tallow. It simmered now in the huge iron kettle, beneath which the fire must be kept glowing all through the long hot day. At the opposite end of the kitchen, at a good distance from the heat of the fire, the candle rods hung suspended between chair backs. Back and forth the three women walked, carrying candle rods, dipping the dangling wicks into the tallow, hanging them back to cool, and dipping them again, till the wax fattened slowly into the hard slow-burning candles that would fill the house with fragrance all through the coming months.

Finally Rachel wiped the damp gray strands back from her forehead and surveyed the rows of sleek green candles.

            "That's plenty for today, more than I counted on. The rods won't be free to use again till tomorrow. I have to look in on Sally Fry's new baby that's ailing, and you girls deserve a rest…you've been working since sun up."

Sora left the work gratefully. She had no intentions of resting, however, and presently she was tripping out the door when her aunt called her back.

            "Where are you going, Sora?"

Sora looked down, not answering.

Her aunt studied her, "Wait," she said then. She went into the kitchen and came back after a moment with a small package which she held out to Sora shamefacedly.

It was a bit of leftover apple tart. So Aunt Rachel had known all the time! Sora suddenly threw her arms about her aunt.

            "Oh, Aunt Rachel…you are so good!"

            "I can't help it, Sora," her aunt said worriedly. "I don't approve at all. But I can't bear to think of anyone going hungry when we have such plenty."

This time, as Sora drew near the pond, she was startled by the startled by the sharp ring of an axe. She had hoped to find Prudence there. Instead, as she came around the corner of the thatched cottage, she discover Tai Kamiya, his wry tanned body bared to the waist, his axe spouting a fountain of chips as he swung at a rotting log.

            "Oh," she exclaimed in confusion, "I didn't know the _Brave Little Warrior_ was in again."

            "She's not. We're becalmed of Rocky Hill and I rowed ahead. Would you have stayed away?"

Sora was in a mood to overlook his mockery. "Barbados molasses and firewood," she commented instead. "I'm beginning to understand how Hannah can shift for herself out here. What a pile of wood, Tai, on a hot day!"

            "Come time to use it I'll be bound for Barbados," replied Tai briskly. "Helps keep my hand in."

Hannah peered from the doorway. "More company!" she rejoiced. "Come inside where it's shady. Tai, thee has piled up more wood than an old woman could burn in a year."

Tai set down his axe. "Today is strictly business," he announced. "The next job is some new thatch for that roof. Some spots there's not enough to make a decent mouse's nest."

            "Can I help?" Sora was astonished to hear her own voice.

Tai's eyebrow lifted. His quizzical brown eyes dwelt on her tan arms so deliberately that she closed her fist to hide the calluses on her palms.

            "Maybe you could at that," he replied, with an air of bestowing a great favor. "You can gather up the grass while I cut."

Sora followed him into the swamp and stooped to gather great armfuls of the long grasses that fell behind his scythe. The strong sweet smell of it tickled her nostrils. When he propped two logs against the cottage wall to make a crude ladder, she amused him by climbing nimbly up after him. Together they spread the bunches of thatch, and Sora held them flat in place while he fastened them with stout vines, his brown fingers moving with the strength and sureness of long years in the rigging. When the last tuft was in place they sat on the fragrant springy cushion and rested, looking out over the sunny meadow toward the gleaming band of the river. For a long time neither of them spoke. Tai sat munching on a straw. Sora leaned on her bare elbows on the prickly thatch. The sun pressed against her with an almost tangible weight. All about them was a lazy humming of bees, broken by the sharp clatter of a locust. The queer rasping call of the blackbird rose from the grass, and now and then they caught the flash of scarlet on the black glossy wings.

This is the way I used to fell in Barbados, Sora thought with surprise. Light as air somehow. Here I've been working like a slave, much harder than I've ever worked in the onion fields, but I feel as though nothing mattered except just to be alive right at this moment.

            "The river is so blue today," she said sleepily. "It could almost be the water in Carlisle Bay."

            "Homesick?" asked Tai casually, his eyes on the blue strip of water.

            "Not here," she answered. "Not when I'm in the meadow, or with Hannah."

He turned to look at her. "How has it been, Sora?" he asked seriously. "I mean really. Are you sorry you came?"

She hesitated. "Sometimes I am. They've been good to me, but it's very different here. I don't seem to fit in, Tai."

            "You know," he said, looking carefully away at the river, "once when I was a kid we went ashore at Jamaica, and in the marketplace there was a man with some birds for sale. They were sort of yellow-green with some patches of scarlet. I was bent on taking one home to my grandmother in Saybrook. But father explained it wasn't meant to live up here, that the birds here would scold and peck at it. Funny thing, that morning when we left here in Wethersfield…all the way back to the ship all I could think of was that bird."

Sora stared at him. That cocky young seaman, striding back through the woods without even a proper goodbye, thinking about a bird! Now having spoken too seriously, he turned back her solemn regard with a laugh.

            "Who would guess," he teased, "that I'd ever see you perched on a rooftop with straw in your hair?"

Sora giggled. "Are you saying I've turned into a crow?"

            "Not exactly." His eyes were intensely brown with merriment. "I can still see green feathers if I look hard enough. But they've done their best to make you into a sparrow, haven't they?"

            "It's these Puritans," Sora sighed. "I'll never understand them. Why do they want life to be so solemn? I believe they actually enjoy it more that way."

Tai stretched flat on his back on the thatch. "If you ask me, it's all that schooling. It takes the fun out of life, being cooped up like that day after day. And the Latin they cram down your throat! Do you relieve, Sora, there are twenty-five different kinds of nouns alone in the _Accidence_? I couldn't stomach it.

            "Mind you," he went on, "it's not that I don't favor an education. A boy has to learn his numbers, but the only proper use for them if to find your latitude with a cross staff. Books, now, that's different. There's nothing like a book to keep you company on a long voyage."

            "What sort of book?" Sora asked in surprise.

            "Oh, most any sort. We pick them up in odd places. I like old logbooks best, and accounts of voyages, but once a man left us some plays from England that were good reading. There was one about a shipwreck on an island in the Indies."

Sora bounced up off the grass with excitement. "You mean _The Tempest_?"

            "I can't remember. Have you read that one?"

            "It was our favorite!" Sora hugged knees in delight. "Grandfather was sure Shakespeare must have visited Barbados, I suspect he liked to think of himself as Prospero."

            "And you were the daughter I suppose? What was her name?"

            "Miranda. But I wasn't much like her."

Tai laughed. "That Shakespeare should have gone on with the story. He didn't tell what happened when that young prince took her back with him to England. I bet she gave the ladies plenty to talk about."

            "It wasn't England. It was Naples. And that's another thing, Tai," she remembered. "All this talk against England and the King. I don't understand it." 

            "No, I suppose you couldn't, not being brought up here."

            "Why are they so disloyal to King James?"

            "There are two side to loyalty, Sora," said Tai, looking suddenly almost as serious as Joe or Matt. "If the King respects our rights and keeps his word to us, then he will retain our loyalty. But if he revokes the laws he has made and tacks and comes about till the ship is on her beam ends, then finally we will be forced to cut the hawser."

            "But that's treason!"

            "What is treason, Sora? A man is loyal to the place he loves. For me, the _Brave Little Warrior_ there is my country. My father would give his life for the right to sail her where and when he pleases, and so would I. Anyway, 'twould do little good with a gale blowing to wait for orders for His Majesty in England. I suppose it's like that for these people in Wethersfield. How can a king on a throne in England know what is best for them? A man's first loyalty is to the soil he stands on."

That would please Uncle William anyway, Sora thought, bewildered and a little dismayed to glimpse under Tai's nonchalant surface a flash of the same passion that made life in the Wood household so uncomfortable. Tai was a New Englander, too, had she forgotten? She was almost relieved to hear Hannah's voice at the foot of the ladder.

            "Has thee finished the thatching yet? 'Tis high time thee had a bite of supper."

            "Supper?" Sora had not even noticed the slanting sun. "Is it that late?"

            Tai's hand on her wrist detained her as she scrambled toward the ladder. "You will come often to see her, won't you?" he reminded her.

            "Of course." Sora hesitated. "I worry about her, sometimes," she whispered. "She seems so smart and spry, and then, the next moment, she seems to forget…she talks as though her husband were still alive."

            "Oh, that!" Tai dismissed her fears with a single word. "Hannah's in good trim right enough, but her mind wanders now and then. Don't let it bother you. I have an idea Hannah I a lot older than we think, and she's lived through a lot. She and her husband starved in jail for months in Massachusetts. Finally they were branded and tied to a cart's tail and flogged across the border. From what I hear, Thomas Tupper was sort of a hero. If he still seems close enough to Hannah so she can talk to him after all these years, you wouldn't take that away form her, would you?"

As usual, Hannah did not urge her to stay. "My company always has to hurry off," she chuckled.

            "Nat always is in a hurry, and thee, and now Prudence."

            "Who is Prudence?" Pulling on his blue cotton shirt, Tai fell into step beside her along the path to the South Meadow.

            "You remember the little girl with the doll?" Hurrying along the path, Sora told him about the reading lessons. She expected that when they reached South Road Tai would turn back, but to her consternation he strode along beside her, and even when she hesitated at Broad Street he did not take the hint. The happy mood of the afternoon was rapidly dissolving in apprehension. Why on earth had Tai persisted in coming, too? There would be enough explanations without a strange seaman to account for. But Tai easily matched her nervous pace with his swinging stride, apparently quite unaware of her desire to be rid of him. 

There they were, sitting outside near the doorstep. Then supper must be over. As they drew near, Matt rose heavily to his feet and stood waiting.

            "Sora, where in the world have you been?" Jun spoke up. "Matt has been waiting for ever so long."

Sora looked from one to another, from her aunt's barely restrained tears to her uncle's waiting judgment. There is nothing I can possibly tell them, she thought, except the truth.

            "I've been helping to thatch Hannah Tupper's roof," she said. "I'm sorry that I didn't realize how late it was. Aunt Rachel, this is Taichi Kamiya, Captain Kamiya's son, from the _Brave Little Warrior_. He was mending Hannah's roof, and I helped him."

The family allowed Tai scanty nods of acknowledgement, but Matt did not alter a muscle of his tight-clenched jaw. The two young men measured each other for a long moment.

Tai turned to William Wood. "I was at fault, sir," he said, with a dignity Sora would never have given him credit for. "I shouldn't have accepted her help, but 'tis a tricky job, and when she came along I was greatly obliged to her. I trust that none of you have been inconvenienced." He looked back at Matt, one eyebrow tilted at the old familiar angle. Sora stood helpless as he took his leave and strode lightly away. He had done his best, but the reckoning was still to come.

            "Why should you take it upon yourself to mend a roof for the Quaker woman?" demanded her uncle.

            "She lives all alone…" began Sora.

            "She is a heretic, and she refuses to attend Meeting. She has no claim on your charity."

            "But someone ought to help her, Uncle William."

            "If she wants help, let her repent her sin. You are never to go to that place again, Sora. I forbid it."

Morosely Sora followed the family into the house.

            "Don't mind too much, Sora," Mimi whispered. "Hannah will be all right if she has that seaman to help her. I like his looks."

TBC… 


	10. chapter 10

A/N: ok this is the next chapter, duh! But I would like to dedicate it to 5kaRreD. Great author can't wait for the next chapter of Myr, and The cry of the dead. Also to Bang, who leaves the best reviews and encourages me to keep writing. Thanks Guys!! Well here's chapter 10. Enjoy!! Please review!! Enjoy!!

Disclaimer: I own nothing so don't hurt me!

                                                                        **Chapter 10**

                                                                   **The Husking Bee**

            "To think you've never been to a husking bee!" exclaimed Jun. "Why, they're more fun than all the holidays put together."

            "Just husking corn all evening?" It sounded to Sora like an odd sort of party. Her arms still ached from wresting the heavy ears from the stalks, row after row, hour after hour.

            "Oh, it doesn't seem like work when everyone does it together. We all sing, and Jeb Whitney brings his fiddle, and there are cakes and apples and cider. Oh, I always think autumn is the very best time of the year!"

            "They say the crop is not too plentiful this year," Mimi put in slyly. "Could be there won't be as many red ears as usual."

Jun tossed her head. "I'll find one, you never fear," she said blithely. "I have my own methods."

            "Red ears? Are they better than the others?" At Sora's innocent question her two cousins burst into peals of merriment.

            "You wait and see," advised Jun. Come to think of it, I guess I'll make certain that Matt gets one, too. Then you'll find out!" At her own sudden suspicion, Sora blushed crimson.

In a rare mood of intimacy Jun linked arms with Sora as they set out along High Street to gather the last of the corn in the meadow. It was more than the September air that accounted for her high spirits.

            "I just feel it in my bones," she confided, "that something wonderful is going to happen tonight at the corn husking."

Jun's excitement was contagious. Sora began to feel a tingle of anticipation. Though she still couldn't see how anyone could make a festivity out of hard dusty work, it was the first party of any sort to which she had been invited in Wethersfield. The few young people she had come to know, the ones she had seen at Sabbath Meeting and Lecture Day, would all be there.

            "I never knew you could predict the future," she laughed, "but I hope you're right."

            "I know I am," said Jun, "because this time I'm going to see to it that something happens. I've made up my mind."

            "You mean…Joe Kido?"

            "Of course I mean Joe. You know how he is, Sora. So serious and shy. He'll never be able to find his tongue if I don't help him out."

            "But Joe is still a student…"

            "I know. He hasn't any property like Matt, or any way to support me yet. That's why he doesn't speak. But I know how Joe feels, and I know how I feel, and why should we wait forever without even making plans? And what could ever be a better time than a husking bee?"

            "Jun…" Sora ventured doubtfully, "do you really think…?"

            "You'd better be thinking about your own affairs," laughed Jun. "Matt isn't like Joe. He's like me. When his mind is made up he isn't going to wait forever."

            Why did Jun have to remind her? Sora thought wryly. Ever since the day of Matt's house-raising, when the neighbors had gathered together and, working from dawn to sunset, had raised a fine imposing frame and nailed the sturdy new clapboards in place, Sora had known Matt was only waiting a propitious time to speak. She had long since decided what her answer would be. As Matt's wife she could come and go as she pleased. There would be no more endless drudgery, and she could snap her fingers at a woman like Goodwife Cruff. Besides, Matt admired her. In spite of the fact that he was often bewildered and scandalized, he was still as infatuated as he had been that first Sabbath morning. Then why did Jun's teasing always raise this cold little lump of foreboding?

She glanced longingly toward the little house by the pond and promised herself that she would steal a few moments on her way home. But work as fast as she could, when she and Jun finished their task there was time for only a flying visit. Prudence had been there, Hannah told her, but had not dared to wait for a lesson.

            "If only these old eyes of mine could make out the letters," Hannah regretted. "But actually the child doesn't seem to need much help. She's just hungry for more to read. Poor little mite. I keep hoping the goat's milk will put a little fat on her bones."

Jun was out of sight when Sora started back along South Road. But to her surprise she glimpsed a familiar wide black hat in the distance and paused to wait as Joe Kido came loping along the road to catch up with her.

            Dr. Bulkeley sent me find some skunk cabbage," he explained, waving a bunch of green. "'Tis a rare cure for asthma, he says. How do you come to be walking alone?"

            "Jun went on ahead," she explained. Had he hoped to meet Jun on the road? "I stopped to see Hannah Tupper."

She said the name deliberately and was rewarded by his startled eyes.

            "The Widow Tupper? Does your family know about that, Sora?"

            "Jun and Mimi know. Hannah is a good friend of mine."

            "She is a Quaker."

            "Does that matter?"

            "Yes, it does," he said thoughtfully. "Not that I hold anything against the Quakers. But this woman has no proper reputation. She's been accused twice of practicing witchcraft."

            "That is just cruel gossip."

            "Probably, but I'd hate to see it turned against you too. You know, Sora, there are a few people here in town who still know haven't forgotten that day you jumped into the river. If they find out that you're acquainted with a witch…"

            "Joe, how can you pay attention to anything so silly?"

            "Witchcraft isn't silly, Sora. Dr. Bulkeley says…"

            "Oh. Dr. Bulkeley says!" retorted Sora. "I'm tired of hear what he says. Don't you ever think for yourself any more, Joe?"

At the hurt in his blue eyes she was instantly contrite. "I'm sorry," she said, impulsively laying a hand on his sleeve. "I didn't mean that really. But since you've been studying with that man you seem to have changed somehow." 

At once he forgave her. "You don't know him as I do," he explained. "Every day I realize more how much I have learned. But it's not just the studies. We do change, Sora, in spite of ourselves…at least some of us do," he added, with a flash of the humor she had missed in him lately. "I don't want to preach at you, Sora. It's just that the Quakers have a name for stirring up trouble, and it seems to me you manage to get into enough by yourself."

            "I know," Sora agreed cheerfully, "but it's Hannah who's helping me change. If you only knew her…"

Joe walked besides her, listening earnestly as she tried to make him understand the lonely women in the meadow. Presently they reached the crossing at Broad Street where Joe would turn toward Dividend, and they stood for a moment of comradeship. Joe took off his hat, leaned on his elbows on the fencepost and stood gazing reflectively back at the Meadows, the wind stirring his fair hair. All at once he turned and smiled at Sora with the same unexpected sweetness that had warmed her heart that first day in Saybrook harbor.

            "Five months," he said, "since we came here together on that ship. Such high hopes we had, you and I. It has turned out well for you, hasn't it, Sora? A fine big house going up, and a good dependable fellow like Matt. I hope you will be very happy."

Sora colored and looked down at the browning grass. She did not want to talk about Matt. "And you, Joe?" she asked instead.

            "Perhaps," he answered, and the smile lingered at the corners of his mouth. "We shall see."

Sooner than you think, maybe, thought Sora. "Are you going to the husking bee tonight?" she inquired mischievously.

            "I don't know," he considered. "Will Mimi be there?"

            "Mimi? Why no, I don't suppose she can be. It's more than a mile away."

            "Then I think I shall spend the evening at your house instead. I seldom have a chance to talk to her."

            "But they say a husking bee is such…" Slowly she began to realize what he had said.

            "Joe! Why should you want to talk to Mimi?"

His eyes twinkled. "Why do you think I come so often?"

            "But I thought…we all thought…I mean…"

            "It has always been Mimi, from the very beginning. Didn't you guess that?"

            "Oh _Joe_!" In a burst of incredulous joy Sora flung both arms rapturously about his neck. With a startled glance up the road, Joe tactfully freed himself. His very ears were pink, but his eyes were shining down at her.

            "I'm glad you approve," he said. "Do you think I have a chance, Sora?"

            "A chance! Just you try! Oh, Joe, I'm so happy I could dance right here in the street!"

            "I can't try yet," he reminded her soberly. "I have nothing to offer her, nothing at all."

            "You'll have a church of your own some day. Only… could Mimi…do you think she could manage a minister's household? There are so many things Mimi can't do, Joe."

            "Then I will do them for her," he said quietly. "I don't want a wife to wait on me. For Mimi just to be what she is… I could never do enough to make up for it."

            "Then tell her, tonight, Joe," she urged, remembering the longing in Mimi's eyes.

            "Perhaps," he answered again. "We shall see."

Walking home past Meeting House Square Sora could hardly keep from dancing. She wanted to shout and sing. Mimi and Joe! How right! How exactly, unbelievably right! How could she keep from telling someone? They must see that she was bursting with excitement. Jun would surely…

Jun! Her jubilant feet came suddenly to a halt. How could she have forgotten? Ought she to have said something to Joe, warned him somehow? No, she could hardly have done that, in fairness to Jun. He was so completely unaware, so serious and shy, as Jun herself had said, so wrapped in his books and his dreams of Mimi that he had never even noticed that Jun had set her cap for him. What was this something that Jun was so sure was going to happen tonight? What sort of scheme did Jun have up her sleeve?

            Well, if he doesn't go to the husking bee, nothing can happen, she thought practically. And who knows, if he's there with Mimi…Oh dear, Jun is going to mind terribly. But she is so proud. She'll put her nose in the air and pretend she never had such and idea in her head. And she'll get over it, I know, because Joe isn't really suitable for Jun. If only he will speak tonight!

            Jun lingered exasperatingly in front of the little mirror that evening. She was wearing the new blue wool dress for the first time, with a snowy white collar and deep cuffs, and she had never looked lovelier. Her eyes were a deep blue in the candlelight, the clear white of her skin flushed with a secret excitement. Sora fidgeted impatiently. It didn't matter how she looked. Matt was waiting already, and they must all get away quickly before Joe arrived. If only Aunt Rachel and Uncle William could find something to do, and Mimi could be sitting alone in the firelight!

            They were too late, however. Joe stepped inside the door just as the two girls rustled down the stairs, and his eyes were lively with admiration as he waited, with a courtly bow, to let them go ahead of him into the kitchen. Jun tipped back her head and smiled up at him provocatively. Rachel put aside her work, and even William came to the door to see the young folks off.

            "I'm so glad you've come," Jun dimpled. "Now we can all walk together."

            "I'm not going to the husking," Joe told her, smiling. "I think I shall stay here and visit with Mimi instead."

            "But they're all expecting you. Mimi doesn't mind, do you, Mimi?"

Joe shook his head, still smiling. There was a reflection of Jun' excitement in his own pale face.

            "I think I shall stay here," he insisted. "There is something I want to speak to your father about."

His words had a breath taking effect. Jun took a step backward, one hand at her throat, and a wave of scarlet spread from the white collar to her brown curls.

            "Tonight?" she whispered in unbelief. Then suddenly joy came flooding past every doubt and restraint.

            "Oh, Father!" she cried impetuously. "He doesn't need to miss the husking, does he? You know what he wants to ask! Say yes, now, so we can go to the party together!"

            "William Wood was bewildered. "Why, daughter," he rebuked her, "what sort of talk is this?"

            "Shameless talk, and I don't care!" laughed Jun, tossing her brown curls. "Oh Father, you must have guessed. Joe doesn't need to tell you."

Such radiance was irresistible. William Wood's stern features softened, and when he turned to Joe he was actually smiling.

            "If you will come courting such a headstrong, brazen girl," he said indulgently, "then I can only give you both my blessing. Perhaps you can teach her some meekness,"

Joe stood dumbfounded, his pale face shocked completely colorless. He seemed totally unable to collect his wits.

Tell them! Urged Sora, silently and desperately. You've got to say something, Joe, right away!

As if he had heard her, Joe opened his white lips and made a hoarse sound. "Sir…I…" he attempted. Then, still incredulous, he looked back at Jun. Every trace of pride and haughtiness was wiped from her face, such utter happiness and trust shone from those blue eyes that Joe faltered, and in that moment of hesitation he was lost.

            Matt's heavy hand descended on his shoulder. Aunt Rachel held out both hands to him, with tears in her eyes. Then Mimi came slowly from the hearth, her head up, her great eyes clear and lustrous. "I am so glad for you both," she said warmly. Only Sora said nothing. (A/N: o_o)

            Perhaps I dreamed it, she thought, watching Mimi. But she knew she had not dreamed the love in Mimi's eyes that summer evening. Now no one, but herself, would ever know. She had counted on Jun's pride. But Mimi did not have Jun's pride; it was something much stronger than pride that upheld her.

            Presently the four set out into the still, frosty twilight. Jun took Joe's arm confidingly, still carried quite beyond constraint on her wave of happiness.

            "You'll never know," she chattered. "You saved me from being the most outrageous hussy, Joe. I had a scheme. I'm not sure I would have dared, actually. But know…"

Now what? Sora asked, walking behind them. She ached with her own stifled protests. He can't do this! She told herself over and over. But she knew that he could. Joe understood Mimi. He new that never in her life reached her hand for so much as a crust of bread that Jun might want. If he should hurt Jun now, Sora knew, Mimi would never forgive either him or herself.

Lost in her own thoughts, Sora barely noticed that Matt's dignified pace was even more deliberate than usual. They had dropped some distance behind the others when a purposeful hand grasped her own elbow.

            "Wait a moment, Sora," said Matt. "Let them go ahead. I want to talk to you."

The quiet resolution in his voice penetrated her racing thoughts. Reluctantly she gave him a corner of her attention. The intent look in his eyes, even in the waning light, warned her of what was coming.

Oh, no! Not after all that had happened! She was tempted to run for the shelter of the fireside and Mimi.

            "I didn't mean to speak tonight," Matt was saying. "But watching those two…don't you envy them their happiness, Sora?"

I can't bear it, she thought in panic. "Not tonight!" The last two words escaped in a half whisper. Matt took them literally.

            "Tomorrow then. Let me speak to your uncle. You won't need to help me out," he added with unwonted humor. "I am quite capable of speaking for myself."

Sora stood shivering in the damp twilight. This silk dress is not warm enough for New England, she thought irrelevantly. Then she made an effort to gather her forces. Matt's question was not unexpected after all. She had thought that her answer was all ready.

            "Please, Matt," she whispered. "Don't speak to him yet."

Matt looked down at her, perplexed.

            "Why not? Don't you want to marry me, Sora?"

She hesitated. "I had not thought of getting married so soon."

            "Jun is just sixteen," he reminded her.

            "I know. But I'm still a stranger, Matt. There are so many things I have to learn."

            "That's true," he agreed. He was silent a moment. "I won't hurry you, Sora," he said reasonably. "The house can't be finished before spring, anyway. I'll wait for your answer."

What her answer would be he seemed to have not the slightest doubt. As they walked on, his hand remained on her elbow with a new possessiveness.

Laughter spilled from the open door. The great barn was glowing with lanterns swinging from the hand-hewn timbers. There was a fragrance of new hay and the warm reassuring smell of cattle. The gaily dress young people sat in a circle around a vast mound of silk-tasseled corn, and already the husking had begun. Shouts of welcome greeted the newcomers, and the circle shifted to make room for them. To Sora's surprise the husking was fun, enlivened by singing and wagers and jokes that seemed uproariously funny. She was astonished. Wethersfield was not always a dull solemn place! Had her uncle ever been to a husking? She wondered.

All at once a new shout went up. Jun sat with a half-shucked ear of corn in her lap, and from the ruffled silk peeped bright orange-red kernels. Jun laughed and tossed back her head with all her old arrogance.

            "I haven't any need for a thing like that!" she said triumphantly. "What am I offered for it?"

Without waiting for an answer, she tossed it straight across the circle into Matt's hands. There were a few quick giggles, a hush of curiosity. Kit sat helpless, her cheeks on fire, and then the laughter and cheering left her giddy as Matt stepped resolutely forward to claim his forfeit.

TBC….

A/n: For those of you that don't understand that last part, when you get an ear of corn with red kernels, you're suppose to kiss the one you date or are with. Something like that. Next chapter coming soon. ^_^


	11. chapter 11

A/N: Well, here's the next chapter. I really don't have much to say. Oh! If anyone knows the name of the story that I have list in my profile, I would really like to know cause it's a great story. I named it Lost and Need to Find. All right, please review when you're finished.

Disclaimer: Don't hurt me, I don't own anything.

                                                                                **Chapter 11**

                                                            **The Brave Little Warrior comes again**

After the keen still days of September, the October sun filled the world with mellow warmth. Before Sora's eyes a miracle took place, for which she was totally unprepared. She stood in the doorway of her uncle's house and held her breath with wonder. The maple tree in front of the doorstep burned like a gigantic red torch. The oaks along the roadway glowed yellow and bronze. The fields stretched like a carpet of jewels, emerald and topaz and garnet. Everywhere she walked the color shouted and sang around her. The dried brown leaves crackled beneath her feet and gave off a delicious smoky fragrance. No one had ever told about autumn in New England. (A/N: It's really quite pretty, yet depressing. I would know, I live in CT.) The excitement of it beat in her blood. Every morning she woke with a new confidence and buoyancy unexpected thing might be possible.

As the days grew shorter and colder, this new sense of expectancy increased and her heightened awareness seemed to give new significance to every common thing around her. Otherwise she might overlook a small scene that, once noticed, she would never entirely forget. Going through the shed door one morning, with her arms full of linens to spread on the grass, Sora halted, wary as always, at the sight of her uncle. He was standing not far from the house. Looking out toward the river, his face half turned from her. He did not notice her. He simply stood, idle for one rare moment, staring at the golden fields. The flaming color was dimmed now. Great masses of curled brown leaves lay tangled in the dried grass, and the branches that thrust against the graying sky were almost bare. As Sora watched, her uncle bent slowly and scooped up a handful of brown dirt from the garden patch at his feet, and stood holding it with a curious reverence, as though it were some priceless substance. As it crumbled through his fingers his hand convulsed through his fingers his hand convulsed in a sudden passionate gesture. Sora backed through the door and closed it softly. She felt as though she had eavesdropped. When she had hated and feared her uncle for so long, why did it suddenly hurt to think of that lonely defiant figure in the garden?

Jun's voice interrupted her groping thoughts. "Hurry up, Sora," she called. "That 's the third group of people that've gone past the house. They say there's a trading ship coming up the river. If we finish the washing, we can watch it come in."

Sora's heart leaped. "What ship?"

            "What does it matter? It will bring mail, and perhaps some new bolts of cloth, and maybe the scissors we ordered from Boston. Anyway, it's fun to see a ship come in, and there won't be many more this fall."

~*~*~*~

The _Brave Little Warrior_ rounded to, her top sails were furled, and with a great creaking of lines and shudder of canvas, she came to rest alongside the Wethersfield dock. The onlookers crowded forward as bales and barrels and knobby bundles were passed over the sides into eager hands. Sora and Jun stood a little to the side, enjoying the bustling scene. The excitement of the crowd seemed to be contagious. When Jun spoke, Sora was surprised to find that her own lips were strangely unmanageable. A queer trembling made her clench her fists tight. She could not turn her eyes away from the deck of the ship.

At last she glimpsed a fair head emerging from the hatchway, almost hidden behind a vast load. It was some time before Taichi Kamiya, carelessly scanning the busy wharf, caught sight of her. Then he raised one hand in the briefest possible greeting. Sora knew how Tai could be when he was absorbed in the ship's business. She waited, pretending an interest in each bit of cargo that came over the rail. Gradually the citizens of Wethersfield claimed their orders, the merchants from Hartford counted off the barrels of nails and oil and salt, and only a handful of idlers still stood about.

            "Come on, Sora," urged Jun. "There's nothing more to see."

No, Sora had agreed, there was not the slightest excuse for lingering furthur. With a little shrug she turned away, and immediately she heard his voice.

            "Mistress Tyler! Wait a moment!" She whirled back to see Tai bounding over the rail. He came toward her with his light buoyant step, carrying under his arm a bulky package wrapped on a bit of sailcloth. 

            "Good day to you, Mistress Wood," he greeted Jun respectfully. Then he turned to Sora. "Would you be kind enough to deliver a bit of cargo for me?" The words were acceptable enough, it was the indifferent tone that was bewildering. 

            "'Tis a length of woolen cloth I picked up for Hannah," he explained, holding out the package.

Sora took it reluctantly. "She'll be waiting for you to come yourself."

            "I know, but father is anxious to be off. Lose this wind and we'll be delayed here for days. Hannah might need this. If you can spare the time from your fashionable friends."

Sora opened her mouth, but before she could speak he went on.

            "An interesting cargo we had this trip. One item in particular. Sixteen diamond-paned windows ordered from England by one Matthew Ishida. They say he's building a house for his bride. A hoity-toity (A/N: Word of the Day: hoity-toity) young lady from Barbados, I hear, and the best is none too good for her. No oiled paper in windows, no indeed!"

She was taken aback by the biting mockery in his voice.

            "You might have mentioned it, Sora," he said, lowering his voice.

            "There…there's nothing definite to tell."

            "That order looks definite enough."

While she searched for something to say she knew that his eyes had not missed the hot surge she could feel sweeping up from the collar of her cloak to the hood at her forehead.

            "May I congratulate you?" he said. "To think I worried about that little bird. I might have known it would gobble up a nice fat partridge in no time." Then, with a quick bow to Jun, he was gone. 

            "What bird? What was he talking about," panted Jun, breathlessly trying to keep up with Sora's sudden haste. Her head turned away to hide her angry tears, Sora did not answer.

            "Honestly, Sora, you do know the oddest people. How did you ever meet a common riverman like that?"

            "I told you he was the captain's son."

            "Well I certainly don't think much of his manners," observed Jun.

To Sora's relief a distraction awaited them at home. Rachel stood in the doorway peering anxiously up the road. 

            "I declare," she fretted. "There is no peace for the poor man. Someone came to fetch him just now.  Said a rider came out from Hartford with news this morning, and there's a great crowd at the blacksmith's shop. Can you see anything up the road, Jun?"

            "No," said Jun. "The square seems quiet."

            "I think it is something to do with that Governor Andros of Massachusetts, the one who is determined to take the charter away. Oh dear, your father will be so upset."

            "Then let's get him a good dinner," suggested Jun practically. "Don't worry, Mother. The men can take care of the government."

Following them into the house, Sora felt grateful to the unpopular Andros. Whatever he had done, he had saved her, for the moment at least, from any more of Jun's questions. William Wood did not come home for the good meal they had made ready. Late in the afternoon he came slowly into the kitchen. His shoulders sagged and he looked ill.

            "What is it William?" Rachel hovered over his chair. "Has something terrible happened?"

            "Only what we have expected," he answered wearily. "Governor Treat and the council have warded it off for nearly a year. So now Sir Edmond Andros has sent word, three days since, that he is setting out to take over as royal governor in Connecticut."

            "Lay a fire in the company room," he added. "There are some who will want to talk tonight."

One other chance bit of news reached them before nightfall. For all his haste, Captain Eaton had missed the wind after all, and their ship lay becalmed jus off Wright's Island. Sora took a revengeful pleasure in the thought. She hoped they had a good long wait ahead of them. It would serve Tai right if they sat there till the ice set in. He might perfectly well have delivered hi own package. And she would make very sure of one thing. She would take care not to deliver it herself till the _Brave Little Warrior_ was well on its way toward Saybrook.

A/N: sorry so short. The next chapter will be much longer. Review please!


	12. chapter 12

Disclaimer: I think we all know that I don't own any of this.

                                                                        **Chapter 12**

                                                                        **The Charter**

            "It means the death of our free commonwealth!"

            "'Twill be the end of all we've worked for!"

The angry voices came clearly through the closed door of the company room. It was impossible not to overhear. Mimi's spinning wheel faltered. And Rachel's hand, lighting a pine knot, trembled so that a spark fell on the table unheeded and left a small black scar. Frequently in the past months the same grimfaced men had called upon William Wood, but tonight the voices had a frightening quality.

            "They must think it a desperate matter to meet like this on the eve of the Sabbath," said Mimi.

            "Your father never touched his supper," fretted Rachel. "Do you suppose it would do to offer them all a bite when they come out?"

Sora dropped a stitch for the third time. She had little concern over the colony of Connecticut, but she was seething with curiosity over one aspect of tonight's business. Some time ago Matt had arrived, offered his usual courteous greetings to the women, and then, instead of taking his place by the fireside, had astonished her by knocking boldly on the company room door. More surprising still, he had been admitted, and there he had stayed, behind that closed door, for the past half hour. Pride could not restrain her tongue another moment. 

            "What in the world is Matt doing in there?" she burst out. "Why would uncle William let him in?"

            "Didn't you know?" Jun threw her a condescending glance.

            "Know what?"

            "Matt came over to father's way of thinking two months ago. Even before his house was raised, when he had to pay such high taxes on his land." 

Now how did Jun know that? Sora stared at her.

            "I never heard him say a word about it."

            "Maybe you just weren't listening." Jun's tone had more than a touch of smugness.

Chagrined, Sora jerked at another dropped stitch. It was true, sometimes when Matt and Jun were talking about the house it was all she could do to keep her mind from wandering. But she knew she would have remembered anything as important as this. Was Matt ashamed to admit to her that he had turned against the King? Or did he think she was too stupid to understand?

The voices broke out again. "This Governor Andros says right out that deeds signed by the Injuns are no better than scratches of a bear's paw! We are all to beg new grants for land we've bought and paid for. Why, the fees alone will leave us paupers!"

            "They can come into our Meeting House and order us to kneel and whine tunes like their Church of England."

            "My cousin in Boston actually had to put his hand on the Holy book to swear in court. I'll shoot any man tries to make me do that!"

They could hear William's voice, cold and steady, never raised or out of control. "Whatever happens," he was saying, "we do not want any shooting here in Connecticut."

            "Why not?" broke in another voice. "Should we hand our freedom without a murmur like Rhode Island?"

            "I say defy him!" came a hoarse shout. "Nine train bands we have ready in Hartford county. Nigh unto a thousand men. Let him look into a row of muskets and he'll change his tune!" 

            "It would mean senseless bloodshed," William said clearly.

For nearly an hour the voices went on, the angry shouting gradually giving away to low tense words that could not be distinguished. Finally a silent, tight-mouthed group of men emerged, with no interest in the refreshments that Rachel timidly offered. When they had gone William lowered himself heavily into a chair.

            "It is no use," he said. "We must spend Sabbath in prayer that God will grant patience."

Rachel searched for some words of comfort. "I know it is a disappointment," she attempted. "But will it truly change our lives so very much? Here in Wethersfield, I mean? We will still all be together in this house, and surly we will not lose our rights as citizens of England."

Her husband brusquely waved away her comfort. "That is all a women thinks about," he scoffed. "Her own house. What use are your so-called rights of England? Nothing but mockery. Everything we have built here in Connecticut will be wiped out. Our council, our courts will be mere shadows with no real power in them. Oh, we will endure it of course. What else can we do? If only we could somehow hold back the charter itself. This man has no right to take it from us."

Not till later, when she and Jun undressed, shivering, in the chilly upstairs chamber, did Sora dare to venture a comment. "They don't seem to realize," she whispered, "how powerful the Royal Fleet is. Once when the Royalist were trying to hold Bridgetown, Barbados, Parliament sent a troopship and subdued them in no time." 

            "Oh, I don't think there will be any fighting," said Jun confidently. "It's just that men like Father don't like to be dictated to. But Dr Bulkeley says the charter was never intended to be as free as they have made it. He thinks the men of Connecticut have taken advantage of he King's generosity."

            "So I suppose Joe thinks so too?" Sora couldn't resist adding.

Once Jun would have flared, but her new happiness was hard to shake. "Poor Joe," she laughed now. "He's so mixed up between Dr. Bulkeley and Father. Honestly Sora, I agree with Mother. I don't believe it will change our lives much. Men make an awful fuss about such things. I just wish it hadn't happened four days before Thanksgiving. It's going to spoil the holiday to have everyone so gloomy."

            "I'd be curious to see this Governor Andros," said Sora. You remember Dr. Bulkeley told us he used to be a captain of the dragoons in Barbados." 

            "Maybe we can see him," said Jun, blowing out the candle and hopping into bed. "If he comes up from New London he'll have to cross the river at Smith's ferry. I'm going to get a peek at him no matter what father says. You don't often get a chance to see all those soldiers in uniform!"

For a good many Wethersfield citizens curiously got the better of loyalty on the afternoon. Sora and Jun met a fair number of farmers and their wives traveling along South Road and ranging along the bank of the river. They had a good hour's wait ahead of them, lightened by the arrival of an escort from Hartford, led by Captain Samuel Talcott, one of the Wethersfield men, Sora noted with surprise, who had occasionally joined the meetings in her uncle's company room.

            "I'd have no part in greeting that Andros," commented one farmer. "he crabs would pick my bones before I do."

            "Look at the fine horse all ready for His Highness! They should have asked me. I'd have found the horse for him all right!"

Captain Talcott sensed the growing anger in the waiting crowd and raised his voice. "There is to be no demonstration," he reminded them. "The governor comes here under orders from His Majesty. He will be received with all due courtesy."

Presently a murmur arose as the first red-coated horsemen appeared on the opposite shore. "There he is!" excited voices cried. "The tall one just getting off his horse! He's getting into the first boat there!" 

The ferryboats crossed the wide river without mishap, and the party from Boston stepped out onto the shore at Wethersfield. More than seventy men there were, with two trumpeters and a band of grenadiers. Sora thrilled at the sight of the familiar red coats. How tall and handsome and trim they looked, beside the homespun blue-coated soldiers.

And Andros! He was a true cavalier, with his fine embroidered coat, his commanding air, and the wealth of dark curls that flowed over his velvet collar. How elegantly he sat the saddle of his borrowed horse. Why, he was a gentleman, an officer of the King's Dragoons, a knight! Who were these common resentful farmers to dispute his royal right? He made their defiance seem childish.

Governor Andros had no cause to complain of his reception at Wethersfield. The people kept a respectful silence. The Hartford escort saluted and showed a praiseworthy discipline. As the band rode out of sight along the road a few fists were shaken, and some small boys hurled clumps of mud after the last horses' hoofs. For the most part it was a somber group that straggled back to their neglected chores. The magnificence of Andros and his procession had shaken their confidence. They all knew that this haughty man was on his way to meet with their council, and that before night fell he would hold their very lives in his hands.

Resignation and despair settled over the household that evening, as though, Sora thought, it were the eve of that Doomsday that the minister warned of in Sabbath Meeting. There was no company to look forward to. Matt was a member of the militia in Hartford, and Joe had sent word that he must care  for two of Dr. Bulkeley's patients while the doctor attended the session. In William's scowling presence the others scarcely dared whispered. Sora was thankful when she and Jun could escape to the cold sanctuary of the upstairs chambers.

They had been fast asleep for some time when they were startled awake by the thudding of hoofs in the road below and the whinny of a horse suddenly reined in. There was an echoing rap of a musket against the door.

William must have been awake and waiting, for before the rapping ceased they heard the bolt slide back. Instantly Jun was out of bed with Sora scrambling after her. Snatching heavy cloaks to pull over their nightclothes, the girls flung open the chamber door. From the opposite room came Rachel, still fully dressed. The three women crowded together on the narrow stairs. To Sora's astonishment the man who stepped through the door into the light of William's candle was Matt.

            "It's safe, sir!" he burst out, before the door was shut. "The charter's safe, where he can never lay a hand on it!"

            "Thank God!" exclaimed William reverently. "You were at the meeting, Matt?"

            "Yes, sir. Since four o'clock. Sir Edmond got a stomach full of talking today. The speeches of welcome lasted near to three hours, before he could get a word of business."

            "And the charter?"

            "It was there, all the time, in the middle of the table in plain sight. Sir Edmond made a long speech about how much better off we were all going to be. It got dark, and finally he asked for the lights. Before long the room got hot and full of smoke and when someone opened a window, the draft blew out the candles. It took quite a few minutes to get them lighted. Nobody moved. Far as I could see everybody stayed right in their places. But when the candles were lit the charter had disappeared. They looked high and low for it, all over the room, and never found a trace."

            "Was the governor angered?"

            "You'd have admired him, sir. You couldn't help it. He sat there cool as an icicle. He knew the paper wasn't going to be found, and he wouldn't stoop to ask a question about it. As it was, he could afford to ignore it."

            "Aye," said William grimly. "He had the power in his hands without it."

            "Yes. Governor Treat read a statement, and they all signed it. The Colony of Connecticut is annexed to Massachusetts. Governor Treat will be appointed Colonel of Militia."

            ""And Gershom Bulkeley?"

            "They say he will be appointed a Justice of the Peace for his loyalty."

            "Hmm," snorted William. He thought the news over a moment. "The charter," he insisted, "do you know what happened to it?"

Matt hesitated. For the first time he acknowledged the presence of the three women by one brief embarrassed glance up the stairs.

            "No sir," he answered. "The room was dark."

            "Then how do you know it is safe?"

            "It is safe, sir," said Matt positively.

            "Then we can hold our heads," said William, taking a long breath. "Thank you for coming, my boy."

When the door was shut behind Matt. William turned to the women on the stairs. "We can praise God for this night," he said. "Now get to bed, all of you. And remember, if there is any talk about this, you have heard nothing…nothing at all, do you understand?"

            "Can you sleep now, William?" asked his wife anxiously.

            "Aye," agreed William, "I can sleep now. There are hard times ahead for Connecticut. But some day, when the hard times have passed, as they must pass, we will bring our charter out of hiding and begin again, and we will show the world what it means to be free men."

The two girls crept back into the cold chamber and climbed shivering into bed. As Sora lay wide awake in the blackness, some distant shouts, a snatch of raucous, unrestrained singing such as she had never heard before in Wethersfield, sent her mind back to the days of her childhood. She surprised Jun by a sudden giggle.

            "I know where the charter went," she whispered. "The spirits took it."

            "What are you talking about?" Jun was almost asleep. 

            "I just remembered it is  All Hallows Eve. This is the night the witches are supposed to ride aboard on broomsticks, and the spirits do all sorts of queer things."

            "Nonsense," said Jun. "We don't hold with saints' days here in New England. Besides, Matt knows perfectly well where that charter is. I could tell he does."

Snubbed again, Sora fell silent and listened to that unaccustomed shouting in the distance. She felt curiously elated. She knew she had overheard an account of serious insubordination to the King, yet in her heart she was glad that her uncle had known this small victory. Now perhaps they would have some peace in this house. No, it was more than that. Tonight she had understood for the first time what her aunt had seen in that fierce man to make her cross an ocean at his side. There was a sort of magnificence about him, even without the fine uniform that made Governor Andros so splendid. Lying there in the dark, Sora had to admit it…she was proud of him.

A/N: Finally done with this chapter. The next one will be kind of long too. And I'l try to finish it ASAP. Till then, please review. ^_^


	13. chapter 13

A/N: All right! I got some great reviews from you guys. Yeah!! Sorry I think I had too much orange juice today. Well here's the next chapter, Enjoy!!

Disclaimer: I don't own any of this, so please don't hurt me.

                                                                        **Chapter 13**

                                                     **Jack-o-lanterns, writing, and leaving **

            "There will be no Thanksgiving this week," announced William when he came home at noontime the next day. "It seems we have no authority here in Connecticut to declare our own holidays. His Excellency, the new governor will declare a Thanksgiving when it pleases him."

            "Oh dear!" exclaimed Jun in disappointment. "We had planned such a lovely day. And Mimi has baked pies already."

            "We can be thankful among ourselves that we have an abundance to eat and the good health to enjoy it." 

            "But there won't be any games, and the train band won't drill?"

            "There is no occasion to celebrate," he reminded her. "Better for the young people to remember that idleness breeds mischief. A disgraceful thing happened last night. Never since we have lived in Wethersfield has there been such a disturbance on All Hallows Eve."

            "I thought I heard some shouting," said Rachel. "It reminded me of home. In England the boys used to light bonfires and march the streets…"

            "Such things are best not mentioned," her husband silenced her. "All Saints' Day is a papist feast. But our own young people had no share in this, thank goodness. 'Twas a rowdy band of river men from a trading ship."

            "Did they do any damage?"

            "Little enough, since we have a constable who is quick to his duty. The three ringleaders are cooling their heels now in his shed, and on Lecture Day they will sit for all to see in the town stocks."

            "What did they do, Father?" inquired Jun coolly. Across the table her eyes met Sora's deliberately.

            "They came roistering into town just before midnight. I am sorry to tell you, Sora, that your friend Matt Ishida seems to have been the only one singled out for this insulting prank.

Sora dared not ask the question, but her uncle went on.

            "They illuminated his house," he told them gravely.

            "You mean they burned it down?" gasped Rachel.

            "No. They well might have. They put lanterns in the window frames that are waiting for new panes. Lanterns made out of pumpkin heads, with candles inside, and unholy faces cut in the sides to show the light."

            "Jack-o-lanterns!" exclaimed Jun. Sora choked suddenly on a giggle that rose unexpectedly from nowhere. Instantly she was horrified at herself, and in mortified confusion kept her eyes on the wooden trencher before her.

Her uncle shot a suspicious glare at the two girls. "Whatever they are called, they are the devil's invention. 'Twas an outrageous piece of blasphemy. I trust they will be dealt with severely.

Thursday Lecture Day, the day of public punishment, was two days away. Somehow, Sora knew, she would have to endure the waiting. Though actually, she knew already what she would see. It did no good to remind herself that there were dozens of trading ships on the river, and that the _Brave Little Warrior_ might well be out to sea by now. Sora had no doubt at all who one at least of the culprits in the stocks would be, and neither, by the smug set of her pretty lips, had Jun.

By Thursday noon Sora gave up trying to keep her mind on her work. No matter how she shrank from the ordeal before her, she knew she could not stay away. The one thing she could not face was the thought of taking that walk to the Meeting House in the presence of Jun. An hour before meeting time, when all the family seemed occupied, she slipped out of the house and set out along High Street with a hard little lump of dread crowding her ribs. 

At first she could barely glimpse the stocks. They were surrounded by the usual crowd of idlers and passerby. It was no place for a girl alone, but she had to see. Clenching her fists tight she moved closer. 

Yes, they were all three _Brave Little Warrior_ men, and none of them showed the slightest sign of repentance. One of the three sat with his head down in sullen disgust. Tai and the redheaded seaman who painted the ship that morning on the river were cheerfully exchanging insults with a cluster of young bound boys who had stopped to enjoy the spectacle, the two culprits holding their own in an unchastened manner that delighted the onlookers. In spite of their ready answer, the sport seemed one-sided, as Sora could see by the daubs of mud that stained the rough boards of the stocks. Even as she watched, an apple core sailed through the air and bounced off Tai's forehead. A cheer went up at such marksmanship, but Tai's comment, "Asshole!", drew an even louder roar of approval.

            "Watch your tongue, you scoundrel!" shouted a farmer, catching sight of Sora's flustered face. "There's a lady present."

Tai twisted his head the inch or so that the boards allowed hi and stared at her with out the slightest recognition. Her presence had spoiled the sport. The servant boys drifted away, and presently the three prisoners sat for a moment neglected. Impelled by some urge, half pity and half annoyance, Sora came forward from the shelter of the trees.

Tai watched her come without a flicker in his brown eyes. Now that she stood directly in front of him she could see the bruise that the careless missile had left. Suddenly she felt tears rising.

            "Sora, for heaven's sake," Tai hissed in an exasperated whisper, "get away from his place! Quick!"

Deliberately Sora stepped closer. She marked the way of the tight boards were chafing the hard brown wrists. "This is horrible, Tai!" she burst out. "I can't bear to see you in this hateful thing!"

            "I'm quite comfortable, thank you," he assured her. "Don't waste your pity on me. 'Tis as roomy as many a ship's berth I've slept in."

            "Isn't there anything I can do? Are you hungry?"

            "You can stop trying to be my mother. 'Twas well worth it. I'd gladly sit here another five hours for the sight of Sir Matthew's face that evening."

He was impossible! With a flounce of petticoats she turned away. It did not help to note that her foolish concern had been witnessed by a whole group of Lecture goers. This would certainly give them something to wag their tongues over. Head held high, she forced herself to keep a ladylike pace. At the door of the Meeting House she stopped to read the posted notice.

That for stealing pumpkins from a field, and for kindling a fire in a dwelling they three shall be seated in the stocks from one hour before the Lecture till one hour after. That they shall pay a fine of forty shillings each, and that they be forbidden hereafter, on certainty of thirty lashes at the whipping post, to enter the boundaries of the township of Wethersfield.

Sora's courage failed her altogether. She simply could not go into that Meeting House. She could not bear to sit there and hear that sentence read aloud. She could not face the family, or the whispering and pillory. Gathering her skirts about her she hurried across the green, skirted the square in a wide arc, and fled home to her uncle's house. It was the first time since she had come to Wethersfield in the spring that she had dared to miss a Thursday Lecture.

The family had already left for the Meeting House and Mimi, busy in her spinning, did not hear her return. Sora crept up the stairs, but the empty bedchamber was not the refuge she needed. She had to talk to someone. Mimi would listen with gentleness, of course. But how could she ever explain to Mimi about Tai? There was only one person who could understand.

It is a good chance to take Hannah the piece of cloth, anyway, Sora reasoned. At least this is one afternoon that I can be sure of not meeting any seafaring friends there. She stole down the stairs again and took a winding path through the back meadows to the pond.

            "Don't fret, child," Hannah said philosophically, when Sora had poured out the story. "The stocks aren't so dreadful. I've been in them myself."

            "But Tai is banished from Wethersfield. He won't be able to leave the ship or come to see you anymore."

            "Well now, that is a shame," agreed Hannah, unperturbed. In spite of her woe, Sora had to smile. Why hadn't she remembered that ever since he was eight years old, Tai had been finding his way to the pond through devious meadow routes? Hannah knew that no threats could keep Tai from coming again. As always, here in this house, things seemed to look much less desperate.

            "This Matt Ishida," Hannah said thoughtfully. "I never heard Tai mention him."

            "He had come to call the night Tai walked home with me. Tai met him there."

            "Does thee mean that he came to call on thee?"

            "Yes." Why hadn't she ever told Hannah about Matt?

            "Is the young man courting thee, Sora?"

Sora looked down at her hands. "I guess you'd call it that, Hannah."

Hannah's shrewd little eyes studied the girl's downcast face. "Does thee plan to marry him?" she asked gently.

            "I…I don't know. They all expect me to."

            "Does thee love him?"

            "How can I tell, Hannah? He is good, and he's fond of me. Besides," Sora's voice was pleading, "if I don't marry him, how shall I ever escape from my uncle's house?"

            "Bless thee, child!" said Hannah softly. "Perhaps 'tis the answer. But remember, thee has never escaped at all if love is not there."

Presently Sora opened the door to Prudence's timid knock and was comforted by the pleasure that rushed into the child's face. Prudence had further news of the culprits.

            "Tai won't be able to come to see you," she told Hannah. "They marched the three of them straight to the landing and put them on their ship. But Tai waved to me as he went by."

            "You know Tai?" Sora asked the child, surprised.

            "Of course I know him. He comes to see Hannah. Last time he listened to me read."

Why should it disturb her to think of Tai's sharing the reading lessons? Sora wondered, trying to be reasonable. How many of his visits had she missed? She was a little jealous to think them all here cozily together while she was hard at work in the cornfield. Annoyed at herself, she picked up the sail wrapped bundle. "He sent you a present, though," she told Hannah brightly. Hannah ruefully surveyed the length of gray woolen. "Now isn't that kind of Tai?" she exclaimed. "So soft and tight woven. Much too fine for the likes of me. But thee knows, the truth is these old eyes of mine can't even see to thread a needle."

            "Then Prudence and I will make you a dress," promised Sora blithely.

            "Can you sew, truly?" demanded Prudence, overwhelmed at still another accomplishment.

            "Of course I can sew. I've never made a woolen dress, but I learned to embroider before I was your age. I'll borrow a pattern and scissors from Mimi and you'll see!"

While the reading lesson began, Sora spread the cloth on the floor, turning it this way and that, as she had seen Mimi do, trying to plan how to use the length to the best advantage. The idea of cutting and sewing a dress by herself was novel and exciting.

            "Will you really let me sew some stitches?" asked Prudence, watching her with shining eyes.

            "Really and truly," promised Sora, smiling back at her. What fun it would be to make something warm and pretty for Prudence, she thought with longing. 

There were days on end, of course, when Sora could not manage to keep the tryst. But Hannah and Prudence were fast friends now, and she knew that the reading went companionably on. There were more frequent days when Prudence could not escape her mother's sharp eye, and other days when her small face looked so pinched and exhausted that Sora wondered painfully if the child had been punished for tasks that she left unfinished.

            "Hannah," she said softly over Prudence's head, "I am afraid to go on like this. What would happen if they found out about us? Tai is strong enough to take it. But Prudence…"

            "Yes," agreed Hannah quietly. "I know that soon thee would begin to consider that."

            "What should I do, Hannah?" 

            "Has thee looked for an answer?"

Prudence looked up. "You won't say I can't come, Sora?" she pleaded. "I don't care what they do to me. I can stand anything, if only you'll let me come!"

            "Of course you can come," said Sora, stooping to give the child a reassuring hug. "We'll find an answer, somehow. Look now, I've brought you a present, too." From her pocket she drew three precious objects that had required some ingenuity to gather, a partly used copybook from her trunk, a small bottle of ink, and a quill pen.

            "'Tis high time you learned to write," she said.

            "Oh Sora! Now? This very minute?"

            "This very minute. Watch me carefully." Opening to a clean page she carefully wrote the child's name on the first line. "P-R-U-D-E-N-C-E. Now see if you can copy that."

The small hand trembled so that the first eager stroke sent a great blot of ink sprawling across the page. Prudence raised stricken eyes.

            "Oh Sora! I've spoiled your lovely book!"

            "'Tis no matter. You should see the great blots I used to make. Now…very carefully…"

Finally it was completely written, Prudence, in quite respectable letters, without a single blot. Prudence was awestruck at her own handiwork. Hannah came to peer closely and admire.

            "Let me do it again," pleaded the child. "This time I won't make the R so wiggly." She grasped the quill in tense, careful fingers, and her lips silently formed each letter as she traced the lines. Over her bent head Sora and Hannah exchanged an affectionate smile. For a time they both sat listening to the small sounds in the house, the scratching of the pen, the rustling and snapping of the fire, and the slow purr of the yellow cat. 

How peaceful it is, Sora thought, lazily stretching her toes nearer to the blaze. Why is it that even the fire in Hannah's hearth seemed to have a special glow? Like the sunshine on that day I sat on the new thatch with Tai. If only, right now, on that bench across the hearth…but what a ridiculous daydream was this? Tai couldn't be here, no matter how much she wished. Sora shook herself upright.

            "Tis too dark to work any more, and we should be heading home." She said. She flung the door open, and bit of milkweed whisked in on a rush November wind, spilling shreds of spidery white down. Prudence ran back to fling her arms about Hannah.

Rachel greeted her reproachfully. "You're very late, Sora. It was wrong of you to stay away from Lecture. Your uncle was very displeased. And Joe Kido walked back with us to say goodbye to you and Mimi."

            "Goodbye? Where is Joe going?"

Rachel looked across the room at Jun, who was setting the table near the fire. But Jun, her eyes red from weeping, said nothing.

            "What happened, Aunt Rachel?" asked Sora, bewildered.

            "Joe has enlisted in the militia. There's a detachment going out from Hartford to aid some of the towns north of Hadley in Massachusetts against the Indian attacks, and Joe volunteered to go with them."

            "To fight?" Sora was too astonished to be tactful. "Why, Joe is the last person I'd think to be a soldier."

            "Tis a doctor they needed, and Joe has learned a good deal of medicine this year."

            "But why now, right in the middle of his studies?"

            "I think it was his way of breaking with Dr. Bulkeley," explained Rachel. "He has tried so hard, poor boy, to reconcile Gershom's ideas with his own bringing up. Now it seems the doctor is going to publish a treatise in favor of Governor Andros and the new government, and Joe just couldn't stomach it any longer. We all think it is to his credit."

            "I don't!" spoke up Jun. "I think it is nothing but stubbornness."

            "That's not fair, Jun" Mimi spoke from the hearth. She looked a little more pale and tired than usual. "I think you should be proud of him."

            "Well, I'm not," answered Jun. "What difference does it make what Dr. Bulkeley writes? Now Joe won't get a church of his own, and he can never get married or build a house!" Her tears broke out afresh.

            "He'll come back," Rachel reminded her. "The trip was only to be for a few weeks."

            "He'll be gone for Christmas. If he cared anything about me he wouldn't have gone at all."

            "For shame, Jun!" said her mother. "You had better dry those tears before your father comes in."

Mimi spoke thoughtfully. "Try to understand, Jun," she said slowly. "Sometimes it isn't that a man doesn't care. Sometimes he has to prove something to himself. I don't think Joe wanted to go away. I think, somehow, he had to."

Jun had shut her mind to any consolation. "I don't know what you're talking about," she snapped. "All I know is we were perfectly happy, and now he has spoiled everything."

TBC…

A/N:  Ok, only 5 more chapters to go, and they're all pretty long so it might take me a while to write them, but I assure you that I won't take too long. I hope to get at least three of them done before Christmas. I hope. Anyways, thanks for taking the time to read this, and please review, I love hearing from you guys!! ^_^   


	14. chapter 14

Disclaimer: I do NOT own anything.

Sorry it took me so long to finally get this chapter out, but due to the conspiracy of Senior English teachers, they've pummeled massive amounts of essays on those of us who have a chance of graduating from this hellhole. My apologies. Enjoy!!

Chapter 14

Five days after Joe's departure, Jun fell ill. Her mother, inclined at first to attribute her complaints to moping, took a second look at her flushed cheeks and put her to bed. Within two more das alarm had spread to every corner of Wethersfield. Sixteen children and young people were stricken with the mysterious fever, and none of the familiar remedies seemed to be of benefit. For days Jun tossed on the cot they spread for her in front of the hearth, burning with fever, fretful with pain, and often too delirious to recognize the three women who hovered about her. A young surgeon was summoned from Hartford to bleed her, and a nauseous brew of ground-roasted toads was forced between her cracked lips, to no avail. The fever simply had to run its course. 

On the fourth day Sora felt chilly and lightheaded, and by twilight she was thankful to sink down on the mat that they dragged to the fireside near her cousin. Her bout with the malady was short, however. Her wiry young body, nourished by Barbados fruits and sunshine, had an elastic vitality, and she was back on her feet while Jun was still barely sitting up to sip her gruel. Dressing rather shakily, Sora was compelled to ask Mimi's assistance with the buttons down her back, and was shocked when her older cousin suddenly bent double in a violent fit of coughing. Sora whirled around on her.

            "How long have you been coughing like that?" she demanded. "Let me feel your hand! Aunt Rachel, for heaven's sakes, get Mimi to bed quick! Here she's trying to wait on us!"

Tears of weakness and protest ran down Mimi's cheeks as Rachel stooped to take off her oldest daughter's shoes. Sora heated the warming pan to take the chill off of Mimi's bed in the corner, and Mimi buried her face in the pillows as though it were a shame past bearing that she should cause so much trouble. 

Mimi was seriously ill. Twice the young doctor rode out of Hartford to bleed her. The third time he stood looking soberly down at her. "I dare not bleed her further," he said helplessly.

Rachel raised timid eyes to her husband. "William do you think…that perhaps Gershom might know something to help her? He is so skilled."

William's lips tightened. "I have said that man does not come into my house," he reminded her. "We will hear no more about it."

Rachel, already worn from the long vigil with Jun, was near the breaking point. William, after working in the fields all day, forced his wife against her will to get some rest while he sat by his daughter's side. 

On the fourth morning of Mimi's illness William did not go to work. Toward noontime he took down his coat, "I am going out for a time," he said hoarsely.

He had one sleeve in the coat when a knock sounded at the door, and as he drew back the bolt a man's voice grated harshly through the silent room.

            "Let me in, man. I've something to say. William, you're a stubborn mule and a rebel. But this is no time for politics. Time was your Mimi was like my own daughter. Let me see her." Gershom Bulkeley said as he entered their household.

~*~*~*~*~*~

After hours of cooking an exotic brew, the doctor left to tend to other patients. As Sora and the rest of the family sat down to a dinner that none of them could eat, a new fear came knocking at the door.

               "How dare you?" William demanded as he opened the door in a low voiced anger. "Know you not that there is illness here?"

            "Aye, we know right enough," a voice replied. "There is illness everywhere. We need your help to put a stop to it."

            "What do you want?"

            "We want you to come along with us. We're going for the witch."

            "Get away from my house at once," ordered William.

            "You'll listen to us first," shouted a voice, "if you know what's good for your daughter."

            "Keep your voices down, then, and be quick," warned William. "I've no time to listen to foolishness."

            "Is it foolishness that there's scarce a house in this town but has a sick child in it? You'd do what we heed William Wood. Wetherell's boy died today. That makes three dead, and it's the witch's doing!"

            "Whose doing? What are you driving at?"

            "The Quaker women's. Down by the Pond. She's been a curse on this town for years with her witchcraft!" 

The voices sounded hysterical. "We should have run her out a long time ago."

            "Time and again she's been seen consorting with the devil down in that meadow!"

            "Now she's put a curse on our children. God knows how many will be dead before morning!"

            "This is nonsense," scoffed William. "There's no old woman, and no witchcraft either could bring on a plague like this."

            "What is it then?" a woman shrilled.

William passed a hand over his wrinkled forehead. "The will of God…" he began.

            "The curse of God, you mean!" another voice screamed. "His judgment on us for harboring an infidel and a Quaker."

            "You'd better come with us, William. Your own daughter is like to die. You can't deny it."

            "I'll have naught to do with it," said William firmly. "I'll hold with no witch hunt."

            "You'd better hold with it!" the woman's voice shrilled suddenly. "You'd better look to the witch in your own household!"

            "Ask that high and mighty niece of yours where she spends her time!" another woman shouted from the darkness. "Ask her what she know of your Mimi's sickness!"

The weariness dropped suddenly from William. With his shoulders thrown back he seemed to tower in the doorway.

            "Begone from my house!" he roared, his caution drowned in anger. "How dare you speak the name of a good, God- fearing girl? Any man who slanders one of my family has to reckon with me!"

There was a silence. "No harm meant," a man's voice said uneasily. "'Tis only woman talk."

            "If you won't come, there is plenty of others who will," another said. "What are we wasting our time for?"

The voices receded down the pathway, rising again in the darkness beyond. William bolted the door and turned back to the dumbfounded women.

            "Did they wake her?" he asked dully.

            "No," said Rachel. "Even that could not disturb her, poor child."

For a moment there was no sound but tortured breathing. Sora had risen to her feet and stood clinging to the table's edge. Now the new fear that was stifling her broke from her lips in an anguished whisper.

            "What will they do to her?"

Her aunt looked up in alarm. William's black brows drew together darkly. "What concern is that of yours?"

            "I know her!" she cried. "She's just a poor helpless old woman! Oh, please tell me! Will they harm her?"

            "This is Connecticut," answered William sternly. "They will abide by the law. They will bring her to trial, I suppose. If she can prove herself innocent, she is safe enough." 

            "But what will they do to her…tonight…before the trial?"

            "How do I know? Leave off your questions, girl. Is there not enough trouble in our house tonight?" He lowered himself into a chair and sunk his head in his hands.

            "Go and get some sleep, Sora," urged Rachel, dreading any more disturbance. We may need you later on."

Sora stared from one to the other, half frantic with helplessness. They were not going to do anything. Unable to stop herself, she burst into tears and ran from the room.

Upstairs, in her room, she stood leaning against the door, trying to collect her wits. She would have to get Hannah. No matter what happened, she could not stay here and leave Hannah to face that mob alone. If she could get there in time to warn her… that was as far as she could just see.

She snatched her cloak from the peg and carrying her leather boots in her hand, crept down the stairs. She dared not try to unbolt the great front door but instead tiptoed through the house into the back chamber and let herself out. She could hear shouts in the distance, and slipping hurriedly into her boots she fled along the roadway.

~*~*~*~

            'Her door isn't even bolted.' Sora thought as she entered Hannah's house. "Hannah dear," she said, "Wake up! 'Tis Sora. You've got to come with me quickly."

            "What is it?" Hannah jerked instantly awake. "Is it a flood?"

            "Don't talk, Hannah. Just get into this cloak. Where are your shoes? Here hold out your foot, quick! Now…"

There was not a moment to spare. As they stepped into the darkness the clamor of voices struck against them. The torches look very near.

            "Not that way! Down the path to the river!"

In the shelter of the dark bushes Hannah faltered. "Sora, why are these people coming?"

            "Hush! Hannah, dear, please…" Sora succeeded in half dragging the sobbing woman through the under bush as they watched the crowd set their torches to her house. 

            "My house!" cried Hannah, so heedlessly that Sora clapped a hand over her mouth. 

Finally the voices died away. After a long time, Sora dared to move her aching muscles. It was bitterly cold and damp there by the river. She drew Hannah's slight figure closer against her, like a child's, and presently the woman's shuddering ceased, and she had drifted into the shallow napping of the very old. Yet as she napped, Sora could find no such relief in the events that presently took place. Her thought s kept her awake. What chance did they have when morning came? Should she wake Hannah now and pushed on down the river? But where could they go? She could take Hannah to her house, but her uncle was a selectman in this town, and that would not go over well. 

As Sora looked around her she noticed that out of the mist came the solution. First two points of mast, then sails. _The Brave Little Warrior_! Glory be to heaven! The most beautiful sight in the world!

Setting Hannah down gently, Sora made a run towards the river. Kicking off her shoes, she waded in the water. Plunged in and struck out towards the ship. It was a very short swim, yet she was still panting when the black hull loomed over her. She could barely raise her voice above the wash of the ship. She drew a careful breath and tried again.

There was a cry above her and a sound of running feet. "Ahoy! All hands! Man overboard!"

            "'Tis a woman!"

            "Hold on there ma'am, we're coming!"

She heard shouted orders; a thumping and creaking of ropes. Then the lifeboat swung out over her head and lowered with a smack into the water. Tai and the redheaded sailor were inside, and she had never before been so happy to see anyone.

            "I knew it," groaned the red head, as she clung, gasping to the side of the boat.

            "Sora! What kind of game is this?"

            "Hannah… she's in terrible trouble, Tai. They burned her house. Please… can you take her aboard?"

They dragged her over the side of the boat. "Where is she?" Tai demanded. "Tell the captain to heave to!" he yelled up toward the deck. "We're going ashore."

            "There," Sora pointed, "by that pile of logs. We've been there all night. I didn't know what to do, and then I saw the ship…" All at once she was sobbing and babbling like a three year old, about the witch-hunt, and the run through the woods. Tai took her hand into his hard and steady.

            "'Tis all right, Sora," he said over and over. "We'll take you both on and get you some dry clothes. Just hold on a few more minutes so we can fetch Hannah." 

Tai did as he had said and retrieved Hannah and brought her to the lifeboat, but she wouldn't step one toe into it, unless she had her cat.

            "Please Tai, I can't go off without her. "

            "Then I'll get her," Tai said. "You wait here and keep quiet, both of you."

            "You're crazy Tai! No cat is worth it. You've got to get her out of here. If you could have heard those people…"

            "If she's set on the cat she's going to have it. They've taken everything else." Tai stood in the midst of the charred cinders that had once been the old woman's home. "Damn them!" he choked. "Curse all of them!" he kicked a smoldering log.

After searching for what seemed like hours on end, they were able to catch the feline, and Tai tucked it into his shirt. 

            "Where are we going, Tai?" she asked trustfully. 

            "I'm taking you to Saybrook for a visit with my grandmother. You'll be good company for her Hannah. Come on, Sora. Father will go on without us."

            "I'm not going, Tai. All I wanted was to see Hannah safe."

Tai straightened up. "I think you'd better, Sora.," he said quietly. "Till this thing blows over, at least. This is our last trip before winter. We'll find a place for you in Saybrook and bring you back first trip next spring."

Sora shook her head. 

            "Or you can go on to the West Indies with us."

Barbados! The tears sprang to her eyes. "I can't, Tai. I have to stay here."

The concern in his eyes hardened to awareness. "Of Course," he said courteously. "I forgot. You're going to be married."

            "'Tis Mimi," she stammered. "She's terribly ill. I couldn't go, I just couldn't, not knowing…"

Tai looked intently at her, and took one step nearer. The brown eyes were very close. "Sora…"

            "Ahoy there! There was a bellow from the ship. "What's keeping you?"

            "Tai, quick! They'll hear the shouting!"

Tai jumped into the boat. "You'll be all right? You need to get warm…"

            "I'll go home now. Only hurry…"

She stood watching as the boat pulled away from the sand. Half way to the ship Tai turned to stare back at her. Then he raised an arm silently. Sora raised her own to wave back, and then she turned and started back along the shore. She dared not wait to see then reach the ship. In another moment she would lose every shred of commonsense and pride and fling herself into the water after the rowboat and plead with them not to leave her behind. 

            Though it was long past daybreak now, her luck still held. She met no one in the north field. Once she dodged behind a brush pile as the town herder came by with some cows to pasture. She reached the house without further danger. The shed door was still open and she let herself in and crept noiselessly through the house. She heard a murmur of voices, and as she reached the hallway the door to the kitchen opened.

            "Is that you, Sora?" Aunt Rachel peered at hr. "We decided to let you sleep, you poor child. Dr. Bulkeley has been here all night. Praise God… he says the fever has broken!"

In her joy and weariness, Aunt Rachel did not even notice the sodden dress and hair under Sora's woolen cloak.

TBC….

Again I apologize for the delay. I'll try to have the next chapter out ASAP. Till then!! :)


	15. chapter 15

Chapter 15

In dry clothes, with some hot corn mush and molasses inside her, Sora leaned against the back of the settle and soaked in the warmth of the fire. Lightheaded with weariness and relief, she looked around the familiar room. How beautiful and safe it looked, with the sunshine slanting in the window! The regular breathing from Mimi's curtained bed sounded almost normal. Dr. Bulkeley had said that Jun might get up this morning. Rachel had consented to go up to her own bed for a short sleep, on their promise waken her at once if Mimi should rouse, and William was preparing to get back to his work.

Watching him draw on his heavy boots, Sora knew that she could not let him go without speaking. All night, just beyond the fringe of her thoughts, through the terror of the hunt and the long cold hours of waiting, she had cherished one small warming memory. There on the bench it had been the one thing that held her back when Tai had offered her a chance to escape. She had to make sure that this memory was rightfully hers. She got up shakily, and went to stand before her uncle.

            "Uncle William," she said softly. "I heard what you said last night to those people, and I want to thank you for it."

            "'Tis no matter," he answered gruffly.

            "But it is a matter," she insisted. "I've been nothing but a trouble to you from the beginning, and I don't deserve your standing up for me."

Her uncle studied her from under his bushy eyebrows. "'Tis true I did not welcome you into my house," he said at last. "But this week you have proved me wrong. You haven't spared yourself, Sora. Our own daughter couldn't have done more."

Suddenly Sora wished, with all her heart, that she had never deceived this man. She would like to stand here before him with a clear conscience. She was ashamed of the many times… more times than she could count… when she had skipped off and let her work alone.

~*~*~*~*~

When William came home for lunch that same afternoon, there was another knock at their door. 

            "We have business with you William."

            "There is illness here," he answered.

            "This can't wait. Better summon your wife, too, and that girl from Barbados. We'll be as brief as we can."

The men stood aside to let Rachel and Sora walk ahead into the company room. There were four callers, one a deacon from the church, the constable of the town, and Goodman Cruff and his wife. They were not excited this morning. They looked hard and purposeful, and Goodwife Cruff's eyes glittered toward Sora with contempt and something else she couldn't interpret. 

            "I know you don't hold with witchcraft," the constable began, "but we've summat to say as may change your mind."

            "You arrested your witch?" asked William with impatience.

            "Not that. The town's rid of that one for good."

William stared at him in alarm. "What have you done?"

            "Not what you fear. We didn't lay hands on the old woman. She slipped through out trap somehow."

            "And we know how!" hissed Good wife Cruff. Sora felt a wave of fear that left her sick and dizzy.

The deacon glanced at Goodwife Cruff uneasily. "I don't quite go along with them," he said. "But I got to admit the thing looks mighty queer. We've combed the whole town this morning, ever since dawn. There's not a trace of her. Don't see how she could have got far."

            "We know right enough. They'll never find her!" broke Goodwife Cruff. "No use trying to shush me. Adam Cruff, you tell them what we saw!"

Her husband cleared his throat. "I didn't rightly see it myself," he apologized. "But there's some as saw a big yeller cat of hers come arunnin' out of the house. Couple of fellers took a shot at it. But the ones as got a good look claims it had a great fat mouse in its mouth, and never let it go, even when the bullets came after it."

His wife drew a hissing breath. "_That mouse was Hannah Tupper!"_ 'Tis not the first time she changed herself into a creature. They say when the moon is full…"

            "Now hold on a minute, William," cautioned the constable at William's scornful gesture, "you can't gainsay it. There's things happen we better not look to close at. The woman's gone, and I say good riddance."

            "She's gone straight back to Satan!" pronounced Goodwife Cruff, "_but she left another to do her work!"_

Sora could have laughed out loud, but a look at Goodwife Cruff sobered her. The woman's eyes were fastened on her face with cunning triumph. 

            "They found summat when they searched her place. Better take a look at this William." The constable drew something shining from his pocket. It was a little silver hornbook that Sora had brought for Prudence to write in.

            "What is it?" asked William.

            "Looks like a sort of hornbook."

            "Who ever saw a hornbook look like that?" demanded Good man Cruff. "'Tis the devil's own writing."

            "Has the Lord's Prayer on it," the constable reminded him. "Look at the letters on the handle, William."

William took the thing in his hand reluctantly and turned it over.

            "Ask _her_ where it came from," jibed Goodwife Cruff, unable to keep silent.

There was a harsh gasp from Rachel. William lifted his eyes from the book to his niece's white face. "Can this be yours, Sora?" he asked.

Sora's lips were stiff. "Yes sir." She answered faintly. 

            "Did you know you had lost it? Was it stolen from you?"

            "No sir. I knew it was there. I…I took it there myself."

            "Why?"

Sora looked from one grim face to another. Did they know about Prudence? If not she must be very careful. "It…it was sort of a present," she said lamely.

            "A present to the widow?"

            "Not exactly…"

            "You mean she had some sort of hold over you… some blackmail?"

            "Oh no! Hannah was a friend of mine! I'm sorry, Uncle William, I meant to tell you, truly I did, as soon as I could. I used to go see her, on the way home from the meadow. Sometimes I took things to her… my own things, I mean." Poor Rachel, how that apple tart must be torturing her conscience!

            "I don't understand this, Sora. I forbade you… you understood it perfectly… to go to that woman's house."

            "I know. But Hannah needed me, and I needed her. She wasn't a witch, uncle William. If you could only have known her…"

William looked back at the constable. "I am chagrined," he said with dignity, "that I have not controlled my own household. But the girl is young and ignorant. I hold myself to blame for my laxness."

            "Take no blame to yourself, William." The constable rose to his feet. "I'm sorry, what with your daughter sick and all, but we've got to lock this girl up."

            "Oh no!" burst out Rachel. "You can't let them William!" 

            "Since when," asked William, his eyes flashing, "do you lock up a girl for disobedience? That is for me to settle."

            "Not disobedience. This girl is charged with witchcraft.

            "That is ridiculous!" thundered William. 

            "Watch your words man. The girl has admitted to being a friend to the witch. And there is a complaint against her, made according to law and signed."

            "Who dared to sign such a charge?"

            "I signed it!" shouted Goodman Cruff. "The girl put a spell on half the children in this town, and I'll see her brought to court if it's the last thing I ever do!"

William looked defeated. "Where do you aim to take her?" he asked.

            "Shed back of my place will do. There's no proper jail short of Hartford, and I've lost near a day's work already."

            "Wait a minute. How long do you intend to keep her?"

            "'Till the trial. When Sam Talcott gets back tomorrow he'll likely examine her with the ministers present. That's what they did to Goody Harrison and that Johnson woman. Been twenty years since we had a witch case hereabouts. Reckon there'll be a jury trial in Hartford."

            "Suppose I give you my word that until Captain Talcott returns I'll keep her locked in her room upstairs?"

            "What good is his word?" demanded Good wife Cruff. "Has he known where she was these past months?" She wants to see me in jail, Sora thought. She felt numbed by the hatred in the woman's eyes.

            "I'd trust you all right," the constable considered. "But they's some I don't trust. They were out of their mind down there last night. One more death in this town and I won't be held responsible for it. The girl will be safe with me, that I warrant."

Rachel started forward, but William motioned her back. "Get her coat," he ordered. They stood waiting silently in the hallway while Rachel climbed the stairs, weeping, and came back down with her own woolen cloak.

            "Yours feels damp," she quavered. "Keep this on you, Sora. It may be cold in that place."

The Cruffs walked behind them all the way along High Street, down Carpenter's Lane to the constable's house, and stood by till they saw Sora safely in the shed and heard the heavy bolt lock with their own ears.

The shed was entirely empty save for a pile of straw in one corner of the dirt floor. There was no window, but through the rough boards let in chinks of daylight as well as drafts of cold air. Sora leaned against the doorpost and let the tears run down her cheeks.

Toward late afternoon, when one side of the shed was already deep in shadows, she heard footsteps, the bolt drew back, and the constable's face peered through the door.

            "Brought some supper," he growled. "And my wife sent this." He thrust toward her a heavy quilt; none too clean even in that dim light, but a gesture of kindness nonetheless

            "We never had a girl in here before," he explained uneasily. "Funny thing. I'd never a picked you for a witch. But you can't tell."

            "Please," Sora ventured. "Those other woman you spoke of… Goody Harrison and the other? What happened to them?"

            Goody Harrison was banished from the colony. They hanged Goody Johnson." Then seeing the horror that blanched her face they reconsidered. "I'd hardly think they be so hard on you," he consoled her. "Being you're so young and a first offense. More likely brand you, or cut an ear off." He slammed shut the door again.

Whatever might be in that wooden bowl, she had no heart even to taste it. She had begun to shake again, and the quilt did not warm her. She had never in all her life known the feeling of a locked door. It was all she could do to keep herself from pounding against it and screaming.

If she should scream, who would hear her? Who was there anywhere who could help her? Joe Kido perhaps. In his quiet way he had a sort of strength and conviction. They might have listened to Joe. But he was far away in the wilderness of Massachusetts. Tai? He was halfway down the river, and banished from the town as well. Matt? Why of course! Matt could help her. Why hadn't she thought of him at once? Anything Matt said would carry weight in this town. His position, his character, were unquestioned. Could the magistrate for one moment hold the Cruffs' word against a man like Matt?

The thought steadied her. She thought of him coming to champion her, confident, unruffled, those wide dependable shoulders like a between her and the angry face of Goodwife Cruff. Dear dependable Matt! Perhaps he would come tonight. Sora drew a deep breath, and sitting on the floor, her knees drawn tight against her chest, she waited for Matt.

It was Rachel who finally came instead. Long after dark Sora heard her whisper outside the shed wall, so timid and faint that at first she thought she must have imagined it. 

            "Sora? Can you hear me? Are you all to rights?"

            "Yes! Oh, Aunt Rachel, you shouldn't have left them!"

            "I had to know how you are. I knew you'd want to know Sora. Dr. Bulkeley says Mimi's fever is nearly gone."

            "I'm so glad. I wanted to help, and now I've left it all for you to do. Oh, Aunt Rachel…con you ever forgive me?"

            "Shush, child. 'Tis myself I can't forgive. To think I knew all along you were going to that place and I never spoke up."

            "I'd have kept going anyway. But I never knew I'd shame you all like this. Aunt Rachel…what do they do to witches?"

There was a small sound outside the boards. "Nothing, child," whispered Rachel. "They won't do anything to you. We'll think of something." But she had not spoken fast enough… that little sobbing catch of breath had answered first. "The inquiry will be in the morning. Have courage, dear! But you've got to help us, Sora. If there's something you haven't told, something your holding back, you must tell everything." How much courage must it have taken for Rachel to brave her husband's anger, and the dark and the strange terror of a prison shed!

            "I wished I could get some food in to you. Are you very frightened, Sora dear?"

            "Not now," lied Sora. "Not now that you've come. Thank you, Aunt Rachel."

Sustained by her aunt's visit, Sora was able to face the morrow with less panic. She sat down and forced herself to take stock of her chances. She couldn't imagine that they could have much evidence against her. But it didn't take much evidence to rouse these peoples suspicions. What had poor Hannah ever done to harm them? Goodwife Cruff hated her ever since that first day on _The Brave Little Warrior_, and she would never rest now till she had her vengeance. Nobody in the town would have much sympathy for a disobedient girl. If only she could have obeyed her impulse this morning and told her uncle the whole story. Though perhaps he too was helpless. She saw now that she undermined his authority in all eyes by flouting his orders. 

Suppose they discovered that Prudence too had disobeyed? It did not bear thinking. And she was entirely responsible for Prudence's actions, Sora admitted with a sick heart. Who had inveigled the child with promises, and thought of the hiding place under the willow tree, and persuade her… no dragged her against her will… to meet Hannah? Oh, why hadn't she seen what she was doing? How could she have been so wicked? What difference did it make if Prudence could read or not, when she was half starved and beaten and overworked?

If I wanted to neglect my own work, Sora groaned in remoarse, I might as well been out in the Cruffs' field helping the poor child!

And yet, how lovely it had bee, that the last afternoon in the cabin. Leaning her forehead on her knees, Sora could almost feel herself there again. She could hear the crackling of the flames, the bubbling of the stew in the kettle, the scratching of the pen in Prudence's fingers, the creak of Hannah's chair and the drowsy purring of the yellow cat. She could see the glow of the fire, but she could not feel the warmth. It was like gazing in at a window, from the cold outside, at a forbidden room she could never enter again.

She had not slept all the night before on a beach. Now, huddled inside the ragged quilt she was sucked down, in spite of herself, into a black whirlpool of slumber, where nightmare phantoms whirled with her, nearer and nearer, toward some unknown horror.


	16. The Trial

All right! I'm back and I'm ready to finish this story once and for all!! But I would expect some time between chapters, cause I do have a lot of homework for school. Damn college professors! Anyways, here's chapter 16 for you!! Enjoy!

                                                            **Chapter 16**

                                                             **The Trail**

            The sun had been slanting through the chinks in the shed wall for hours when Sora heard the heavy bolt withdrawn and the shed door opened. This time it was the constable's wife, with a wooden trencher of mush. In spite of its dubious appearance it sent a faint curl of steam into the frosty air, and Sora forced herself to take a few spoonfuls while the woman stood watching, hands on her hips.

            "I reckoned you'd be half froze," the woman observed. "To tell the truth I couldn't sleep half the night thinking of you out here. 'Tis good enough for thieves and drunkards, I says to my man, but 'tis no place for a female, witch or no. I've seen the girl in Meeting, I says, sitting there decent as you please, and it goes against reason she could be a witch. There's some folk in this town always bent on stirring up trouble." 

            Sora looked up at her gratefully. "'Twas good of you to send the quilt," she said. "How long will they keep me here, do you think?"

            "My man has orders to take you to the Town House in an hour."

            So soon! Sora put down the spoon, her stomach curling. "What will happen there?"

            "The magistrate and the ministers will examine you. If they think you be guilty they'll send you on to Hartford to wait trail. At any rate, you'd be off our hands. My man and I, we don't relish this work much. We'll be glad when his term is up."

            Sora laid down the trencher in dismay. "But I can't go like this! I've been sitting in the dirt all night!" The face she lifted to the woman was even sorrier than she realized, streaked with mud and tears.

            "You're no treat to look at, that's sure," the woman admitted. "If they took you for a witch right now I'd scarce blame them. Wait a minute."

            She went away, taking the precaution of bolting the door securely, and returned presently with a basin of water and a rough wooden comb. Gratefully, Sora did what she could to make herself respectable. The dress, dirty and crumpled, could not be helped.

            It required the constable and two sturdy members of the Watch to conduct a timid witch up Carpenter's Lane, along Broad Street, up Hungry hill to the Town House. The small building seemed full of people as she entered. Benches and chairs along the two walls were crowded with men from the town, with here and there a sharp-faced woman, cronies of Goodwife Cruff. At a table at the end of the room sat Captain Samuel Talcott, Magistrate from Wethersfield to the general Court of Connecticut, and a group of men whom Sora knew as the town selectmen. Her uncle sat in his place among them, his lips tight, and his eyebrows drawn fiercely together. What anguish it must cost him, Sora thought with shame, to have to sit here and pass judgment on a member of his own household. At the opposite end of the table sat the two ministers, Reverend John Woodbridge, and Dr. Gershom Bulkeley, both famed for their relentless sermons against witchcraft. Sora's heart sank. There was no one, no one in the whole room, save her uncle, who would speak a word in her defense. Matt had not come. 

            Captain Talcott rapped on the table and a hush fell over the room. "Good folk, we will proceed at once to the business at hand. We have come here in order to inquire and search into the matter of Mistress Sora Takenouchi, lately of Barbados, who is accused by sundry wit nesses of the practice of witchcraft. Mistress Takenouchi will come forward."

            Prompted by the constable's elbow, Sora got to her feet and moved haltingly across the room to stand facing the magistrate across the table.

            "You will listen to the charge against you."

            A clerk read from a parchment, giving full weight and due to every awful word. "Sora Takenouchi, thou art here accused that not having the fear of God before thine eyes thou hast had familiarity with Satan the grand enemy of God and man, and that by his instigation and help thou hast in a preternatural way afflicted and done harm to the bodies and estates of sundry of His Majesty's subjects, in the third year of His Majesty's reign, for which by the law of God and the law of the Colony thou deservest to die."

            There was a murmur along the benches. Sora's hands felt icy, but she kept her eyes steadily on the magistrate.

            "Mistress Takenouchi, you are accused by Adam Cruff with the following actions. Firstly that you were the familiar friend and companion of the Widow Hannah Tupper of Wethersfield Pond, an alleged witch who has within the past week disappeared in a suspicious manner. Such friendship is a lawful test of guilt, inasmuch as it is well known that witchcraft is an art that may be learned and conveyed from one person to another, and that it has often fallen out that a witch, upon dying, leaveth some heir to her witchcraft.

            "Secondly, that you are guilty of actions and works which infer a court with the devil, which have caused illness and death to fall upon many innocent children in this town."

            The clerk sat down. Captain Talcott eyed the girl before him. Quite plainly he had a distaste for the duty on hand, but his stern soldierly countenance did not soften.

            "Mistress Takenouchi," he said, "you have heard the complaints against you. We will proceed with the first accusation. Is it true that you were a friend and companion of the Widow Tupper?"

            For a moment Sora feared that her voice would not come. "Yes, sir," she managed shakily.

            "Is it true that on sundry occasions during the summer you have entered her house and visit her?"

            "Yes, sir."

            "Is it true that you were also acquainted with a certain cat which the widow entertained as a familiar spirit?" 

            "It…it was just an ordinary cat, sir, like any other cat."

            "You will answer yes or no. Is it true that you have engaged with the Widow Tupper in various enchantments with the direct intent of causing mischief to certain people?"  

            "Oh no, sir! I don't know what you mean by enchantments."

            "Do you deny that on a certain day in August last, on passing the pasture of Goodman Whittlesley you cast a spell upon his cattle so that they were rooted to the ground where they stood and refused to answer his call or to give any milk on that evening?"

            "I…I don't understand, sir. How could I do such a thing?"

            "Goodman Whittlesley, will you repeat your complaint for this assembly?"

            Her head reeling, Sora stood helpless as, one after the other they rose and made their complaints, these men and women whom she scarcely recognized. The evidence rolled against her like a dark wave.

            One man's child had cried aloud all night that someone was sticking pins in him. Another child had seen a dark creature with horns at the foot of her bed. A woman who lived along South Road testified that one morning Sora had stopped and spoken to her child and within ten minutes the child had fallen into a fit and lain ill for five days. Another woman testified that one afternoon last September she had been sitting in the window, sewing a jacket for her husband, when she had looked up and seen Sora walking past her house, staring up at the window in a strange manner. Whereupon, try as she would, the sleeve would never set right in the jacket. A man swore he had seen Sora and Goody Tupper dance round a fire in the meadow one moonlit night, and that a great black man, taller than an Indian, had suddenly appeared from nowhere and joined in the dance.

            William Wood leaped suddenly to his feet. "I protest this mockery!" he roared, in a voice that silenced every whisper. "Not one word of this nonsense could be proved in the Court of Assistance. There is not one shred of lawful evidence in the lot! I beg you, Sam Talcott, make an end of it!"

            "Do I infer that you are willing to vouch for your niece's good character, William?"

            "Certainly. I will vouch for it."

            "We are to understand then that these visits to the widow were taken with your approval?"

Taken aback, William glared at the magistrate. "No, I had no knowledge of them," he admitted.

            "Did you ever, at anytime, indicate to your niece that she was not to associate with this woman?" 

            'Yes, I forbade her to go."

            "Then the girl has been disobedient and deceitful." William clenched his fists in frustration. "The girl had been thoughtless and headstrong at times. But her upbringing has been such as to encourage that."

            "You admit then that her education has been irregular?"

            "You can twist what I say as you will, Sam Talcott," said William in steely anger. "But I swear before all present, on my word as a freeman of the colony, that girl is no witch."

            "We are obliged to listen to the testimony, William," said Captain Talcott reasonably. "I will thank you to keep silent. What is your opinion of the case, Dr. Bulkeley?"

            Dr. Bulkeley cleared his throat. "In my opinion," he said deliberately, "it is necessary to use the greatest caution in the matter of testimony. Since the unnatural events so far recounted appear to rest in each case upon the word of but one witness, the legality of any one of them is open to question."

            "It is ridiculous to talk of legality," interrupted William. "There has not one word been spoken that makes sense!"  

            For the last few moments Goodwife Cruff had been vehemently prodding her husband. He rose now obediently. "Sir, I've summat to say as makes sense," he announced, assuming a bold tone, "and there's more than one witness to prove it. I've got summat here as was found in the widow's house that night."

            With a sinking heart Sora watched as he drew an object from his pocket. It was not the hornbook, as she expected. It was the little copybook. At sight of it Goodwife Cruff's anger burst through all restraints. 

            "Look at that!" she demanded. "What do you say about that? My Prudence's name, written over and over. 'Tis a spell, that's what it is! A mercy the child is alive today. Another hour and she'd been dying like the others!"

            The magistrate accepted the copybook reluctantly, as though it were tainted.

            "Do you recognize this book, Mistress Takenouchi?"

            Sora could barely stand upright. She tried to answer, but only a hoarse whisper came out.

            "Speak up, girl!" he ordered sharply. "Does this book belong to you?"

            "Yes, sir," she managed.

            "Did you write this name?"

            Sora could barely swallow. She had vowed she would never deceive her uncle again! Then, remembering, she looked back at the copybook. Yes, the name on the first line was in her own hand, large and clear for Prudence to copy. "Yes, sir," she said, her voice load with relief. "I wrote the name."

            William Wood passed a hand over his eyes. He looked old, old and ill as he had looked that day beside Mimi's bed.

            "Why should you write a child's name over and over like that?"

            "I…I can't tell you sir."

            Captain Talcott looked perplexed. "There are no other children's names here," he said. "Why did you choose to write the name of Prudence Cruff?"

            Sora was silent.

            "Mistress Takenouchi." The magistrate spoke to her directly, but Sora remained silent.

            "She won't answer! That proves she's guilty!"

            "She's a witch! She's as good as admitted it!"

            We don't need a jury trial. Put her to the water test!"

            "Hanging too good for her!"

            In the midst of the pandemonium Gershom Bulkeley quietly reached for the copybook, studied it carefully, and turned shrewd, deliberate eye upon Sora. Then he whispered something to the magistrate. Captain Talcott nodded. 

            "Silence!" he barked. "This is the Colony of Connecticut! Every man and woman is entitled to a trail before a jury. This case will be turned over to the General Session in Hartford. The inquiry is dismissed."

            "Hold a minute, Captain!" called a voice. A commotion near the door had been scarcely noticed. "There's a fellow here says he has an important witness for the case."

            Every voice was suddenly stilled. Almost paralyzed with dread, Sora turned slowly to face a new accuser. On the threshold of the room stood Tai, slim, straight- shouldered, without a trace of mockery in his level brown eyes.

            Tai! The wave of joy and relief was so unexpected that she almost lost her balance, but almost instantly it drained away and left a new fear. For she saw that beside him, clinging tightly to his hand, was Prudence Cruff.

            Goodwife Cruff let out a piercing scream. "Take her out of here! The witch will put an evil eye on her!" She and her husband both started forward.

            "Stand back!" ordered the magistrate. "The child is protected here. Where is the witness?"

            Tai put his hands on the child's shoulders and gently urged her forward. With one trusting look up at his face, Prudence walked steadily toward the table.

            Suddenly Sora found her voice. "Oh please sir!" she cried, the tears rushing down her face, "let them take her away! It is all my fault! I would do anything to undo it if I could! I never meant any harm, but I'm responsible for all of it. Please…take me to Hartford. Do what you want with me. But…oh, I beg you…send Prudence away from this horrible place!"

            The magistrate waited for the outburst to be over.

            "'Tis a trifle late to think about the child," he said coldly. "come here, child."

            Sora sank to her knees and buried her face in her hands. The buzz in the room roared like a swarm of bees around her head. Then there was a waiting hush. She could scarcely bear to look at Prudence, but she forced herself to raise her head. The child was barefoot and her snarled hair was uncovered. Her thin arms, under the skimpy jumper, were blue with cold. Then Sora stared again. There was something strange about her.

            "Will you stand there, child, in front of the table?" Captain Talcott spoke reassuringly. 

            Watching Prudence, Sora suddenly felt a queer prickling along her spine. There was something different about her. The child's head was up. Her eyes were fastened levelly on the magistrate. She wasn't afraid!

            "We will ask you some questions, child," said the magistrate quietly. "You will answer them as true fully as you possibly can. Do you understand?"

            "Yes, sir" whispered Prudence.

            "Do you know this young woman?"

            "Oh yes, sir. She is my teacher. She taught me to read."

            "You mean at the dame school?"

            "No, I never went to dame school."

            "Then where did she teach you?"

            "At Hannah's house in the meadow."

            A loud scream from Goodwife Cruff tore across the room.

            "You mean Mistress Takenouchi took you to Hannah Tupper's house?"

            "The first time she took me there. After that I went by myself."

            "The little weasel!" cried Goodwife Cruff. "That's where she was all those days. I'll see that girl hung!"

            It is all over, thought Sora, with a wave of faintness. 

            Dr. Bulkeley still held the little copybook. He spoke now, under his breath, and passed the book to Captain Talcott. "Have you ever seen this book before?" the magistrate asked.

            "Oh yes, sir. Sora gave it to me. I wrote my name in it."

            "That's a lie!" cried Good wife Cruff. "The child is bewitched!"

            Captain Talcott turned to Sora. "Is it true," he asked her, "that the child wrote her name in this book?"

            Sora dragged herself to her feet. "'Tis true," she answered. "I wrote it for her once and then she copied it."

            "You can't take her word for anything, sir," protested Goodman Cruff timidly. "The child don't know what she's saying. I might as well tell it, Prudence has never been what you call bright. She never could learn much."

            The magistrate paid no attention. "Could you write your name again, do you think?"

            "I…I think so, sir."

            He dipped the quill pen carefully in the ink and handed it to the child. Leaning over the table, Prudence set the pen on the copybook. For a moment there was not a single sound in the room except for the moving of the pen. 

            Goodman Cruff was on his feet. Propelled by a curiosity greater than any awe for the magistrate, he came slowly across the room and peered over his child's shoulder. 

            "Is that proper writing?" he demanded in unbelief. "Prudence Cruff, does it say, right as it should?"

            "Very proper writing, I should say," Dr. Bulkeley commented, "for a child with no learning. Now Prudence, you say that Mistress Takenouchi taught you to read? What can you read, child?"

            "I can read the Bible." 

Dr, Bulkeley pulled out the Bible and turned the pages thoughtfully. "Read that for us, child, beginning right there."

            Sora held her breath. Was it the tick of the great clock that sounded so frightening, or her own heart? Then across the silence came a whisper.

            "The father of the right…righteous shall greatly rejoice; and that he that begetteth a wish child shall have joy of him. Thy father and thy mother shall be glad, and she that bare thee shall rejoice."

            In the warm rush of pride that welled up on her, Sora forgot her fear. For the first time she dared to look back at Tai where he stood near the door. Across the room their eyes met, and suddenly it was as though he had thrown a line straight into her reaching hands. She could feel the pull of it, and over its taut span strength flowed into her, warm and sustaining.

            When finally she looked away she realized that all eyes were staring at the two parents, who sat with their mouths open in surprise. 

"Did you hear that?" he demanded widely, of everyone present. All at once his shoulders straightened. "That was real good reading. I'd like to see any boy in this town do better!"

            "It's a trick!" denied his wife. "That child could never read a word in her life! She's bewitched, I tell you!"

            "Hold your tongue, woman," shouted her husband unexpectedly. "I'm sick and tired of hearing about Prudence being bewitched. All these years you been telling me our child was half-witted. Why she's as smart as a whip. I bet it wasn't much of a trick to teach her to read."

            Goodwife Cruff's jaw dropped. For a moment she was struck utterly dumb, and in that moment her husband stepped into his rightful place. There was new authority in his voice.

            "I take it then, Goodman Cruff, that you withdraw your charges against this young woman?"

            "Yes," he said loudly. "Yes. I'll withdraw the charges."

            "Adam Cruff!" his wife had found her voice. "Have ye lost your senses? The girl has bewitched you too!" 

            In the back of the room, a man's laugh rang out…was it Tai's? All at once, like a clap of thunder, the tension of the room broke into laughter that shook the timbers and rattled the windows. Every man in the room was secretly applauding Adam Cruff's declaration of independence. 

            "There seems to be no evidence of witchcraft," the magistrate announced, when order had been restored. "The girl has admitted her wrong in encouraging a child to willing disobedience. Beyond that I cannot see that there is any reasonable charge against her. I pronounce that mistress Sora Takenouchi is free and innocent."

            But suddenly Goodwife Cruff's anger found a new outlet. "That man!" she shrilled. "Isn't he the seaman? The one who was banished for setting fire to houses? Thirty lashes they promised him if he showed his face here again!"

            There was renewed uproar. The constable looked to the magistrate for orders. Captain Talcott hesitated, then shrugged his shoulders. "Arrest him," he snapped. "The sentence still stands."

            "Oh no!" Sora pleaded in alarm. "You can't arrest him, when he only came back to help me."

            With a shrewd look to his neice, William interceded for her. "'Tiz the truth, Sam," he observed. "The lad risked the penalty to see justice done. I suggest you remit the sentence."

            "A good suggestion," agreed the magistrate, relieved to have an end to the matter. But Tai had slipped out of the room and his halfhearted pursuers reported not a single trace of him.

            "They won't find him," a voice whispered in Sora's ear. A small hand crept into hers. "He's got a fast little pinnace hidden on the riverbank. He told me to say goodbye to you if he had to hurry away."

            "Oh, Prudence I'm so grateful to you both!" Tears filled Sora's eyes. "And I'm so proud of you, will you be all right, you think?"

            "She'll be all right." Goodman Cruff said as he came to claim his daughter. "Time somebody looked over her so's she won't need to run off any more. Next summer she'll go to your school, like I always wanted."

            "Goodwife Cruff," the magistrate called back the departing woman. "I remind you that the penalty for slander is heavy. A fine of thirty pounds or three hours in the stocks. Mistress Takenouchi would be within her rights to press her own charges." 

            "Oh no!" gasped Sora. 

            William Wood stood beside her. "Let us make an end of this," he said. "We have no desire to press charges. With your permission, Captain, I shall that Sora home."

TBC…

A/N: Finally!! Two more chapters to go! But until then…review please! J__


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